


The Canon of Kinder Spirits

by LilLangy



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Airbending & Airbenders, Blindness, Character Death, Earthbending & Earthbenders, Eventual Katara/Zuko (Avatar), F/F, F/M, Firebending & Firebenders, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Paralysis, Post-100 Year War (Avatar TV), Post-Avatar: The Last Airbender, Recovery, Slow Burn Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Spiritbending & Spiritbenders (Avatar), Waterbending & Waterbenders, Zutara, Zutara Week, Zutara Week 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 64,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25653406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilLangy/pseuds/LilLangy
Summary: Months after the fall of Ozai, unrest is brewing in the Earth Kingdom. Meanwhile, longing for his past life in the Air Nation, Aang makes a discovery that that will lead him down a darker path than any Avatar before him.Can the Gaang stop him in time to maintain balance? Or will the world be lost to darkness?***The Zutara is slow at first, but my friends, watch how it BUILDS!
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 64
Kudos: 45
Collections: Zutara, Zutara Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**PART 1**

_“Give me silence, water, hope. Give me struggle, iron, volcanoes.”  
\- Pablo Neruda _

In the end, they decide to reconvene in nine months at the Jasmine Dragon—on the night of the summer solstice. Plenty of time, Aang thinks, to take care of things at home before getting back to life in the road. There’s a feeling in the tea shop that last day—the same one Aang used to get on the last day of the Yangchen Festival. 

Suddenly, the bustle of last-minute packing and preparation dies down. The festival mood changes into something heavier. Mai and Iroh are busy somewhere inside the large tea house, so, for a minute, it’s just team Avatar standing there on wide terrace. Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph, Suki, and Zuko all stand apart, avoiding eye contact. Aang plucks uncomfortably at the fringes of his saffron tunic. Eventually, Appa snorts, letting everyone know that he is ready to leave Ba Sing Se far behind him. Sokka claps his hands for attention.

“Okay everyone, gather ‘round! Make a circle!”

Reluctantly everyone steps forward, creating a lopsided blob. Sokka shakes his head, impatiently. “Have you all not seen a circle before? They’re circular.”

In the end, six hands go into a circle and rise to shouts of “Team Avatar!” And just like that, Sokka and Katara are on their way back in the Southern Water Tribe for the first time in over a year. 

They leap from Appa’s back before he has even fully landed, boots crunching in the snow. They run to where their Gran Gran is waiting in front of the tent that was their childhood home. Kanna’s arms open wide, and Katara nestles her cheek into the familiar white lining her hood. Hakoda kisses his mother-in-law gently on the cheek before parting the rawhide curtain of their home and taking a deep breath. The familiar smell of salt and animal pelts brings tears to his eyes. 

That night, they eat raw oysters, fresh seal meat, and—to Aang’s dismay—an entire pot of stewed sea prunes, served in heirloom dishes shaped like little tents. Sokka and Aang each take a gulp of brown liquid from a Fire Nation cask in the corner—a gift from to Hakoda from the new Fire Lord. The taste of it brings tears to Sokka’s eyes and makes Aang breathe _literal_ fire; Katara politely refuses her own thimble-sized portion.

When everyone is full, Hakoda takes out his drums, and they spend an hour by the fire, teaching Aang some of the old hunting songs. Aang refuses to sing the parts where the animal dies, even when they reassure him the songs are meant to honor the animals’ lives. He makes up for it by singing louder than Sokka at all the other parts.

Then, as the stars flicker on in the perpetual winter twilight of the Southern Water Tribe, Kanna begins telling stories. Aang is the perfect audience—laughing at the fools, cheering for the heroes, and outraged by the villains’ evil deeds. Every so often Aang’s eyes flit to Katara, and every time Kanna notices. There’s something about the boy she does not like—a certain childlike possessiveness, and something…more. She can’t explain it. Whatever it is she senses within him—it certainly had not been there when they first met a year ago. It’s something new. Doubts burble up into her stomach like bile. After a hundred years of war, how terrible it would be if the Avatar were somehow corrupted…

Finally, Sokka, who has fallen asleep on his Gran Gran’s shoulder, mumbles blearily that he’d like to speak to King Bumi please, and everyone realizes how tired they are. Fresh furs and blankets are waiting for them at the far edges of the tent. 

Aang lies close to Katara—but not so close that Kanna can’t keep an eye on them. She watches from across the darkening fire as Momo curls up next to Aang. Katara whispers something to the boy, and he laughs. Unbidden, a shadow crosses Kanna’s heart. Long after everyone else is asleep, she keeps watch over the tent.

* * *

Kanna stays with her grandchildren most nights, even though Pakku has built her a virtual palace of ice and driftwood. Secretly, Katara thinks her grandmother prefers their old home, in spite of its simplicity. More than once she sends Pakku home after dinner, promising she’ll be along in ten minutes, only to stay all night with her grandchildren. If Pakku is annoyed, he doesn’t show it when he arrives the next morning with armfuls of dried Yaru Root for breakfast.

Hakoda joins the council of villages in Iluq. It’s a thirty-minute overland trek, so Hakoda is never gone overnight. Still, he and Bato are so busy, grey streaks begin to appear in their hair and beards. 

Once, while bringing Bato a skein of yarn, Katara overhears him muttering to himself through the tent flap. “Who knew that being at home would be just as hard as the war?” She thinks about it all day, and the words stick in her memory for a long time after that.

Before the spring equinox, winter days in the Southern Water Tribe are the coldest and darkest in the world, the sun only visible as a streak of twilit sky to the north. It is a time for rest and peaceful contemplation in the village. Or it would be, if it weren’t for Aang, Katara, and Sokka. 

They become infamous in the village for their epic waterbending snowball fights, which always end with Sokka frozen to the side of a building. They plague Pakku, mostly by poking holes in his shopping baskets and sneaking sea prunes into his slippers.

Eventually, Katara notices that parents send their children inside when they see her coming, clearly convinced that she’s a bad influence. It makes Katara a little sad, but also, secretly, a little pleased. She did take down a Fire Nation princess, after all, and therefore feels entitled to a little bit of a reputation.

When the charm of the all-day snowball fights starts to wear off, Katara writes to Yugoda, a master healer of the Northern Water Tribe, asking for a fresh vial of spirit water. A month later, boxes and boxes arrive, stuffed with a whole library of medical literature and one small vial. She pours over scrolls by candlelight, imagining all the ways they might be applied to the convalescents of her tribe.

Somewhat perversely, she finds that she is attracted the most complicated case studies. She yearns to know why a handful of people lose their memories as they age, why an otherwise healthy body sometimes convulses with spasms, and why a bump on the head can lead to paralysis in the legs. When those questions become too thorny to contemplate, Aang and Sokka are right outside, ready to play.

On the darkest nights, they light a bonfire as large as a tent. They try to make it as far from the village as possible, but their whooping and hollering carries all the way to the ice floes. Sokka and Katara teach Aang to circle dance until they fall down, dizzy.

After the fire dies down, Katara sits close to Aang, resting her head on his shoulder as comfortably as she can, wondering if she will always be taller than him. If they’re lucky, Sokka falls asleep and they sit close together and kiss. Sometimes the wind shifts, and blows smoke in their faces. It makes them cough, and they’re forced to separate and breathe in mouthfuls of fresh air.

Then one night, Katara’s peaceful dreams become nightmares. She dreams she is standing on the icy shore of the village, watching as thousands of war ships pull into the harbor. She can see massive Fire Nation cruisers and Earth Kingdom tugs. Water Tribe cutters slip in and out between the larger boats. There are even small canoes driven by sunken eyed fighters that don’t seem to represent any nation. 

Katara turns her head to see that it’s summer—the season of perpetual sun. It’s never hot in the Southern Water Tribe, but the rays are intense, and beat down just as strongly as they do in the Si Wong Desert. The light from behind her is unbearable.

Slowly, the fighters disembark. They are clumsy on their feet. Some walk together in pairs, others walk alone past the place where Katara stands, drawn into the blinding light. She wants to stop them, but she is frozen. Then she remembers that she’s only a painting—that Aang painted her onto a muraled wall in the Western Air Temple. She looks so pretty in the clothes he’s drawn for her, but now that she is just a painting, she knows she will never reach the warriors in time.

Suddenly, Aang is shaking her. It takes her a moment to realize that this is not part of the dream. 

“Katara! Wake up!” 

“Aang?” Katara pushes him away, eyes still closed. “Can’t it wait? I barely got any sleep…” 

“I’m sorry Katara, but it _can’t_ wait. It’s the pirates—you remember? The ones who stole the waterbending scrolls—they’re here in the village. We’ve got to—"

In an instant, Katara’s feet are on the ground, her water skins open. “Where are the pirates? Is this an ambush?” 

“Katara—"

“Where are Sokka and Gran Gran and Dad? Tui’s gills, Aang, have they been taken?” Without realizing it, she has grabbed the front of Aang’s tunic. He opens and shuts his mouth, struck dumb by the wild look in her eyes.

“Geez Katara, calm down, I’m right outside the tent,” Sokka calls. “I just wanted to keep an eye on the pirate ship. Gran Gran’s there now looking at some northern-style slippers for Pakku. Apparently, someone put sea prunes in his old ones.”

“What?! We have to go and get her. Does she know they tried to capture Aang?”

“Actually, yes!” Sokka calls back. “It was the first things they talked about. Well, first they told her they had an important letter for the Avatar. Then Gran Gran said, ‘you mean the kid who keeps putting leftovers in my husband’s slippers and blowing down my laundry?’ So, the pirates offered to capture you again, and now I think they’re friends.”

Aang frowns, a little annoyed. Katara, at a loss for words, releases his tunic.

“Well, what do you think?” Aang whispers low so that only Katara can hear. “Why would they come all this way if they didn’t have a letter for me?”

“Who would be trying to send you a letter through pirates?” Katara shifts, uncomfortably. “I don’t know Aang. This feels like a trap.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to go without you! If it comes down to it, there’s nobody I’d rather be caught in a trap with.” He blushes a little and rubs the back of his neck. She smiles and takes a hold of his free hand. They leave the tent together, ready to face the pirates and anything else the world might throw at them.

* * *

Zuko lets his mind wander as he notarizes a few final papers. The rainy season is coming on fast, and already the panes of his window are clouded over with grey mist. He wonders if Mai wants to do something tonight, and his heart beats a little faster. _But what should we do?_ He thinks, and his mind goes immediately to a game of tag in the garden. _No, that’s silly. We’re not children anymore._

What did fire lords usually do with their evenings? Support the arts, he guesses. The Ember Island Players have a satellite production of “The Cloud Spirit’s Daughter” going on in the Capital. He wonders if she would like that.

“Aiko, can you bring a letter to Lady Mai?” Zuko asks his personal secretary, who has come in to collect outgoing messages for the day.

Aiko freezes. His voice is shaky. “My Lord, lady Mai has been gone from the palace since yesterday.”

“What?!” Zuko turns to face Aiko, whose face has gone slack. Zuko realizes that the man is terrified. Previous Fire Lords would not have hesitated to vent their frustration on the unlucky soul delivering bad news. Zuko decides in that moment to be more transparent with his emotions.

“You surprised me, Aiko, that’s all. Did she leave a note?”

“No sir. She left directly from…well, from visiting your sister.”

Azula. Now it’s Zuko’s turn to freeze.

“Aiko, please tell the kitchens I won’t need dinner tonight. I think I need visit the tower and find out exactly what Azula did to Mai.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Aiko bows low and walks out of the room, leaving Zuko to ruminate on the many, _many_ ways his family could scare away any girl he decided to bring home.

* * *

The shore of the Southern Water Tribe is dotted with hanging lanterns to drive back the constant purple twilight. It’s midmorning and half the village is out running errands. A small crowd is gathered around the pirate ship, eying the fabrics and exotic foods.

Even though she was forewarned, Katara is still shocked to see the pirate captain in her home, talking pleasantly to a local fisherwoman.

As they, the captain breaks off his conversation with a polite nod. “Avatar Aang, it’s a pleasure to—"

“We’re not interested in small talk,” Sokka cuts him short. “You and your men tried to capture us and sell us to the Fire Lord.”

“Ah, what's that old saying? Destiny is like a river leading back to the ocean.”

“Like the river you tried to throw us into?” Sokka raises an eyebrow.

The captain coughs and turns to Aang. “Avatar, I am trying to—”

“Give me the letter, and then you and your crew can leave,” Aang says.

“Very well,” the captain says a little ruefully. From deep within an iron chest, he pulls out a small roll of parchment. It is tied with a ribbon, and sealed with a thick layer of dark green wax. The scroll handles are metal, embossed with an ornate image of a goat-gorilla. Katara’s breath catches as she realizes who the letter is from.

Sure enough, “It’s from Bumi,” Aang says. The captain raises an eyebrow. Katara wonders if he has ever heard the King of Omashu called by his given name. Aang tucks the letter away inside the orange folds of his robe.

For a moment the captain just stands there, waiting for Aang to reach back into the folds of his robes for a coin purse. Two copper pieces is standard for letter carriers, but with important documents, silver or gold is more appropriate. He licks his lips expectantly. When it becomes clear that the Avatar has no intention of paying, however, he turns to leave.

“Wait.” Aang puts out a hand to stop him. “I changed my mind.”

“Yes?” The steely glint returns the pirate captain’s eyes.

“You can’t leave yet. My friends and I would like to see your ship. We want to make sure you haven’t taken any _souvenirs_ from the Water Tribe, like last time.”

“Avatar, you must understand. For years, we took jobs to get by. Since you defeated the old Fire Lord, there’s more honest work in the Earth Kingdom. And no more Fire Navy ships to make trading a hazard. We’ve been nothing but honest merchants for months now.”

“Then you have nothing to hide.” 

The taller man shifts uncomfortably under the Avatar’s even grey stare. 

“Have it your way then,” he mumbles, and turns up the gangplank.

Inside the hold, the lanky mustachioed pirate and a stout blue-haired pirate stand together, talking in low voices. Their eyes narrow as Aang, Katara, and Sokka pass by. Sokka throws up his fingers in a gesture that plainly says, “I’ve got my eye on you.” The mustache holds up two fingers in a crass but silent response.

Just like their old ship, items are laid out in plain view, enticing buyers. Katara notices they’re mostly carrying barrels of food and drink, with a few clothing items thrown in here and there. There are two more iron chests, each containing stacks of letters. Nothing sparkles or catches the eye, but Aang doesn’t give up. After checking every corner of the hold, he bends himself onto the beams that run just below the roof. 

“Aha! What’s this?” He asks, holding up a wooden mask for everyone to see. It is carved with a pained expression that’s somehow both grotesque and comedic.

The captain looks uncomfortably up at the mask. “We picked that up in one of the larger villages east of here. We traded Chieftainess Hoke for it with Earth Kingdom rice and purple dye. It was a fair and honest trade.”

“Then why try to hide it?”

“Why do you think, Avatar?”

“Masks like these are used in ceremonies to honor the Patola Wind Spirits, so it’s sacred to both the Water Tribe _and_ the Air Nation. How dare you try to take it from where it belongs?”

“Belongs?” The mustachioed pirate chuckles. “It doesn’t belong here, there, or anywhere. Those ceremonies haven’t happened in over two hundred years. If it belongs anywhere, it’s a museum.”

“Well, you’re not taking it out of the Water Tribe.” Aang’s voice is resolute. 

Sokka and Katara exchange worried looks. The captain takes a step closer to the spot where Aang is crouched on the beam, opening his arms in supplication. 

“Avatar, be reasonable. This piece cost us a lot in trade. If we don’t sell it, we can’t keep sailing, at least not honestly.”

Aang shakes his head. “You should have thought of that before you took it from the place where it belongs.”

The captain draws his sword. “I can’t let you walk out of here with that mask, Avatar.”

“Aang,” Katara whispers to the monk, who has just landed lightly beside her, “maybe they’re telling the truth!” Sokka reaches for his boomerang. “Shouldn’t we at least try to—”

 _Wham!_ One of Aang’s fluid motions sends the captain back five feet, reeling from the force of the air.

Then they are surrounded, as six more pirates drop in from the deck above. Katara and Aang stand back-to-back, encircled in a ring of water and shooting out spates like spokes from a wheel whenever a pirate gets too close. Katara is dismayed to find that, since they last met, the pirates have picked up a firebender, presumably from the colonies. No sooner does she ice a pirate to the hull of the ship, than he unfreezes them and puts them back into play.

Sokka is on his own, fighting in close quarters, sword against boomerang. Four pirates rush him at once, but he jumps, stepping over barrels. With one final leap, he reaches the rafters, using boomerang as a hook to stay aloft. Then, with a heave and a flick of his wrist, he frees boomerang, and falls back to the ground, hard, landing on the two biggest pirates. With a kick and a boomerang slice, he quickly dispatches the other two.

Too late, they notice the pirate captain crouched low behind an oversized barrel of pickled fish. He tosses a grappling anchor under Aang and Katara’s water wheel, which catches Aang behind the ankle. The captain tugs, and Aang falls hard against Katara. Their water wheel splashes to the floor. The mask clatters to the ground.

The mustache, freed from his battle with the water benders, rolls to grab it, but Sokka is too quick, using his boomerang to catch one of the eye holes, and bringing the mask towards him. 

“Run!” He yells. “Up the stairs!”

Aang is the last one off the ship. Even before his feet hit the ground, he turns and sends a gust of air up and under the gang plank, forcing it back onto the ship. Then, just like their first encounter with the pirates, he sends a great wave crashing against the broad side of the ship, knocking it back thirty yards out into the bay. 

Taking a deep breath, he conjures another, larger wave. It builds as it moves out from the shore until it is larger than the ship itself. The townspeople gasp in horror. Some of them have seen waves that size—far out to sea in the most treacherous storms. They say a hasty prayer to the ocean spirits for the poor souls aboard the ship.

Then—an instant before the wave hits—it rises higher, and crashes with a resounding rumble back into the ocean. The ship is unharmed, but the force of the water pushes it farther and farther out, until it is the size of Appa’s bison whistle on the dusky horizon. The entire village peers through the midmorning twilight, waiting to see if the pirates will come back. They don’t.

“Yikes!” Sokka breaks the silence. “This thing is creepy. Aang, you could have done us all a favor and let them take it as far away as possible!”

“That’s not the point, Sokka,” Aang says, grabbing the mask. He looks once more out towards ship, distracted. Then he turns to look at Katara, who rises from a bending stance and meets his eye. 

“Aang, we need to talk,” she says, and stalks off towards the ice floes. He follows her sheepishly, away from the lights of the village and into the dark permafrost.

* * *

Katara had given Zuko a hard time about Azula’s prison, but it’s dry and spacious. A series of large windows outside the bars of her cell let in plenty of fresh air and natural light. It’s much better than Kaa Garr—the pit of a prison where Ozai kept Uncle Iroh. 

Zuko stands just outside his sister’s cell, his chin resting on his fist as he contemplates Azula’s situation. He finds himself standing this way a lot. He visits every day, and every day he wonders if Katara may not have been right—if there isn’t a better way…

Behind the bars, Azula lays stupefied by the cocktail of chi blockers that eliminate her firebending. Occasionally, she blinks or pointing at something that Zuko cannot see. The doctors have assured Zuko that there is no point in talking to her—that she won’t respond. He does anyway, hoping that, while she can’t speak, she may still understand.

“Azula,” he says. “Can you tell me what you did to my girlfriend to make her leave me?” 

Zuko knows there’s nothing Azula can have done that would have influenced Mai in any way. Still, some part of him is uneasy. This is Azula, after all. He begins to pace the bars of her cell.

“I hope you didn’t tell her about the time Lo and Li made us do the Hot Foot Shuffle for the colonial governors. That might have been a deal-breaker.” 

He turns, hoping she will at least crack a smile. The old Azula would have laughed, if only at his expense. But no, she’s blowing bubbles with her spittle. He sighs.

Then he spots it. Inches above Azula’s left shoulder there is a note, pinned to the wall by a tiny silver dart. Genius, Zuko thinks. _Even with all the chi-blockers in the world, nobody would go in there but me._

From a chain in his pocket, he draws out three heavy golden keys and unlatches each complicated lock of Azula’s cell. It takes several minutes, but it’s nothing compared to his father’s prison. The gate swings open.

Half expecting Azula to pounce, Zuko sinks down into a defensive stance. After a minute, though, it becomes clear that Azula is only interested in popping her bubbles. He rises, and strides over to the note on the wall. Unpinning it is difficult; Mai’s darts pack a punch, and he doesn’t want to damage the note. In the end it takes both hands and his feet on the wall to free it. He falls with an undignified thump on the tiled floor. He thanks every spirit in the panoply of gods that nobody but Azula was around to see that. Then, he unfolds the red vellum paper, and reads:

_Zuko,_

_I left this note with Azula because it is for your eyes only. This was the safest place I could think to put it. Yesterday I discovered that a group of five or six magistrates and at least one of your advisors belong to a group called the Sons of Azulon. I do not know their names, but I am traveling to the Earth Kingdom. There are rumors that they are communicating with a man named Kai Kozu, the leader of the insurgencies there. I would not leave you if I felt that you were in any immediate danger, but you may want to get someone to test your food, just in case.  
I expect to be back in a month with a list of conspirators, which thankfully means I will miss “The Cloud Spirit’s Daughter.” I hear it’s a musical._

_Stay safe,  
Mai_

He burns the note in his hands. “So, the Sons of Azulon…Add them to the list of people who want me off the throne.” He smiles wryly, and tries to hand Azula the letter. It’s the type of thing that would make her laugh on a good day. 

Then, he notices something that makes his brow furrow. Azula doesn’t take the letter. On closer inspection, what he thought were bubbles look more like a froth. She’s foaming at the mouth. Slowly, Zuko extends his hand. Her forehead is hot, even to Zuko’s permanently warm touch. Her cheeks are splotchy red. Zuko’s eyes go wide with fear.

“Guards!” He calls, rushing out of the cell down the concealed staircase leading back to the main palace. “Guards! Get Azula’s medicine bag! And find her a healer, quick!” He looks back at his sister, sitting all alone in her cell. He hopes he is not too late to save her.

* * *

Even though Ang cannot see her face, he can sense Katara’s anger rising off of her like steam. He’s seen her like this before a handful of times, but only with people who really deserved it— and never with him…

Eventually, they stop at a spot beside an inland river of inky black water. Aang fidgets with his tunic, waiting for Katara to start yelling at him, now that they’re far enough away to avoid an avalanche in town. 

But when she does speak, her voice is quiet and hard. She doesn’t look at him, but up towards the blanket of stars. “You know, if that second wave had hit the ship, it may have killed them, Aang.”

Aang slaps his palm against his forehead like Sokka when someone says something ludicrous. “Come on, it wouldn’t have killed them! I could bend them to shore, no problem!”

“And then what, Aang!?” Katara whirls around, letting her anger wash over him. “That ship is their livelihood! You thought they were going to —what? —join the Water Tribe?! And that mask! You heard the captain; without it, they’re pirates again.”

“They’re also liars and would-be killers, Katara! Do you expect me to believe that they paid for this?” Indignantly, he holds up the mask. 

“Honestly, I find it hard to believe that anybody would pay for that!” Katara yells. Aang can’t help it. He smiles a little.

“It is really ugly, isn’t it?” he asks sheepishly. 

“It looks like Sokka’s self-portraits.” Katara’s tone is severe, but Aang smiles. Katara can’t help it either. She chuckles a little, then falls silent, watching Momo play in the snow.

“Look Aang, we’ve all changed. I changed. You changed. Who would have believed Zuko could be the Fire Lord? Maybe the pirates changed, too.”

Aang remains silent, trying to think of how exactly he’s changed. He doesn’t feel any different, and honestly, he’s a little offended at the idea. Does Katara think I need to change?

Katara throws him a sidelong glance. “I was the one who stopped that second wave from hitting the ship. You know that, right?” 

“I know.” He says, looking down at his feet making circles in the snow. “I said you didn’t have to, though. I had it under control.”

Aang wonders if Katara is going to start yelling at him again. Instead, she leans her head back so that she is staring up at the very apex of the heavens. She stays that way for a long moment before asking the question that’s been on her mind for weeks. 

“Do you think that in some ways, coming home is harder than the war?”

“What? No!” Aang looks at her alarmed. “I love being here with you and Sokka. This is perfect! Do you not like it here?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” She struggles for a minute to find the right words. “It’s just that during the war, we were fighting for something, and now we need to ask ourselves some tough questions about what we were fighting for in the first place. I mean, what is a good world? What does that actually look like?”

“I don’t like those kinds of questions,” Aang says, crossing his arms. “ _This_ is a good world! Right here and now. You, me, and Sokka, hanging out and having fun.”

“Well, sure, it’s been fun for us, but not for Pakku. And what about Bato? I’ve noticed he spends a lot of time out on the ice floes alone.”

“Listen, I know it’s been hard for Bato…”

“It’s been hard for a lot of people!” Katara interrupts. “For you and me, too. But if we ignore it—or if we pretend we’re happy and just play around all the time—it will only get—”

“Hang on,” Aang’s voice cracks. “‘ _Pretend_ we’re happy.’ Are you saying you’re not happy here with me?”

“Aang, of course not. That’s not what I meant at all. I _am_ happy. I just think that we’re facing some personal battles that are just as hard as our physical battles in the war. Maybe harder. We can’t run away from them, or little things like this are going to set us off.” She holds the mask up to her face and tilts her head to the side. He laughs.

“I’m happy too…” Aang says, pushing the mask aside and giving her a peck on the mouth. Katara wonders if he even heard the second part of what she said. Or if he stopped listening after she said that she was happy, too. She’s about to ask him, but he’s looking a penguin who’s wandered up from the floes.

“What do you say?” He notches an eyebrow. “Want to go penguin sledding?”  
And before Katara can say anything else, or indeed, before she can master the tangle of thoughts in her head, Aang grabs her hand and pulls her away from her doubts and towards their next adventure. For a few hours at least, they are happy.


	2. Chapter 2

Kanna reluctantly hangs the mask on the tent-hook she uses for her cooking pots. She looks at it and sighs, then takes down the heavy sack of Yaru powder and begins preparing lunch. Aang, Katara, and Sokka sit close around the low dining table, staring at Bumi’s letter like a stink bomb from the Northern Air Temple. 

“I just don’t get it,” says Aang. “Bumi has tons of servants. Why would he need to send me a letter by pirates?”

Sokka shrugs, “Could be anything. Bumi’s a weird dude.”

Aang glares at Sokka who shrugs again. “What? I’m just saying, what’s normal to Bumi might seem a little strange to the rest of us…ergo, pirate letter.”

“But you think it is…safe…right?” Katara says, eying the letter a little suspiciously, the image of Bumi’s creeping crystal booby traps still fresh in her memory.

“Well, are you going to read it or not?”

“Calm down, Sokka.”

“Calm down? You’re the one who just went ham on a ship full of pirates!”

Katara rolls her eyes and reaches for the letter herself, struggling for a minute with the intricate knot. Finally, the seal gives way and the ribbon falls to the ground. She flattens the letter and hands it to Aang who reads aloud:

_Dear Aang, Katara, Sokka and Momo,_

_Boy have we got problems here in the Earth Kingdom… Since the war ended, my people have begun to realize that the Fire Nation weren’t the only ones making life miserable for the average citizen. A new leader named Kai Kozu is whipping them up into a real lather against the nobles. I won’t lie to you, most of the nobles are pretty awful. They have terrible manners and even worse breath! (Seriously, is it too much to ask them to have a breath mint every once in a while?) Even so, they Kai Kozu’s methods are brutal and he’s becoming very popular. His followers have already taken power in Kyoshi._

Sokka whistles low. “That’s really big news. I wonder if Suki knows yet.”

_I hate to have to ask you, Aang… Bumi’s letter continues… but I know that Kai Kozu is looking to get me out of the way. Will you come to Omashu? In case something happens to me, I’d like to know that you are protecting my city. Do not reply to this letter. Kai Kozu has spies in the palace. (That’s why I’m sneaking this letter out of the city with my cabbage merchant. He’s a resourceful man, and he’ll find a way of getting it to you.)_

_Yours in dire peril,  
Bumi_

“This is bad.” Aang trails off, placing the letter back on the table. 

Sokka nods. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t bet against Bumi. There’s a reason he’s been King of Omashu for half a million years.” 

“I still think I need to go and help him.” Aang looks at Katara and Sokka, who smile at one another.

“Then we’re going with you, right Sokka?”

“Heck yeah we are! Original team avatar, back at it again!” Sokka punches the air, accidentally knocking snow off the roof of the tent.

Kanna stops mashing Yaru for a minute and rests her hands on each side of her stone cooking slab. These tidings of unrest in the Earth Kingdom are hard for her to hear. It’s as if an old wound—the part of her that has only begun to heal since her grandchildren returned—is open again. Her eyes fill up with tears and they cloud her vision like a sudden flurry of snow.

She tries to focus on the task in front of her—the familiar rough stone of the mortar in her hands and the heat of the cooking fire calm her nerves. The physical sensations draw her back from the cold dread of tomorrow. When the Yaru boils, she scoops it up into three wooden bowls—two with seafood for her grandchildren and one with vegetables for the Avatar. She lays the dishes down in front of each child, pausing a minute to brush Katara’s hair away from her face. _She really is starting to look like her mother,_ she thinks.

It takes a minute before Kanna realizes her mistake. She hurries back to the table and snatches Aang’s half-eaten bowl from his hands. Her heart sinks. _Crab lumps, and urchin. Even a small anchovy._ She shuts her eyes tight, hoping he will understand. _He is the Avatar, after all…_

“Child, I’m so sorry, but I gave you the wrong bowl. The food you’ve been eating has fish in it.”

Aang’s face goes slack. For a moment he says nothing. When he finally does speak, it’s in calm, low tones that don’t sound like him at all. 

“In 112 years, I’ve never broken the strict vegetarian diet of the monks. My people were exterminated. All I have left of them is the culture they passed down to me. I didn’t even kill the Fire Lord, because I value life _that_ much, and you’re telling me that I ate meat?”

This is worse than Kanna could have imagined. She stands stony-faced, trying to keep the tears from her eyes. 

“Your people shouldn’t even be eating meat! Don’t you realize you’re killing something? But this whole culture is _obsessed_ with hunting and killing—you even write songs about it!”

“Aang that is enough!” Sokka slams his fist down on the table and rises to his feet. “Gran Gran has taken care of you for six months, and this is how you repay her? I think you need to leave. Go stay with Pakku for a while, until you’re ready to apologize.”

Aang glances from Sokka to Kanna. Finally, his eyes rest on Katara, who has always been on his side before. _She_ knows how important his culture is to him. _She_ should understand his point of view. It irks him to see that—once again—she’s not looking at him, but staring into the fire. Her face is deceptively calm, like still waters that hide dangerous currents. 

“Katara?” His voice is small.

She raises her eyes to meet his. “I think you should leave, Aang.” 

Anger bubbles in his stomach. He resents her attitude most of all. 

“Fine!” He says. “If you don’t want me here, I’ll go. But I’m not going to Pakku’s, I’m going to the Earth Kingdom to help Bumi.” And with a swish of his robe, he vanishes from the tent.

Katara and Sokka don’t really believe Aang has gone to the Earth Kingdom. They sit and wait for him to come back and apologize. Each time the tent flaps rustle, they expect to see Momo scurry up to them while Aang hangs back, shamefaced in the doorway. By morning, however, it becomes clear that he is long gone—probably halfway to the Patola Islands, already. Katara and Sokka do not mention it, but they hug their grandmother a little tighter that day as they begin their morning chores.

* * *

As Aang travels north out of the perma-dark of the Southern Water Tribe, the clouds begin to glow a gentle gold and red. Aang realizes he’s seeing the sunrise for the first time in six months, and it frightens him.

He remembers how watching the sunrise used to make him feel—how it always made him feel—as if the whole world was waiting for him to come out and play. But today he feels nothing—just a little chilly from the cool air whipping around him. Try as he might, he can’t summon that familiar feeling of joy and wonder.

He realizes then that there’s something deeply wrong with him. In the deepest part of his heart, he knows exactly what it is _and_ when it started, but it is too daunting, too genuinely frightening to admit, even to himself. So, the only thought he allows to enter his conscious mind is a reassurance: _this won’t last forever; it will pass._

Just like his fight with Katara, this shadow in his mind is a temporary thing. Eventually, things will go back to the way they were before, and it will be like none of this ever happened. In the meantime, he has other problems to worry about. Real problems. So, he squares his shoulders away from the sunrise and towards the Earth Kingdom city of Omashu.

* * *

It’s two days before Sokka and Katara actually talk about it. They are just coming back from a busy morning out on the ice floes, checking Pakku’s crab traps, when Sokka broaches the subject.

“You realize that this means neither of us will make it to Ba Sing Se,” he says, tying off his kayak so violently that Katara takes a step back to avoid his flying elbows. “I’ll completely miss Suki!”

“I thought about that, too,” Katara admits. “Without Appa it’s…what?”

“About fourteen weeks. Probably more now, since the Earth Kingdom is falling apart.”

“Do you think it’s really that bad?”

“How should I know? We’re stuck out here at the crossroads of nothing and nowhere! The moon could crash into Lake Laogai and you and I wouldn’t hear about it for a month.”

Katara lets him vent his frustrations. She loves the Southern Water Tribe more than anything, but restlessness is getting the better of her, too. She doesn’t express the thought that Aang might still come back for them. She’s not sure how Sokka would respond. 

“What if we just go?” She finally asks.

“What do you mean ‘go’? To Ba Sing Se? We’d be two weeks late.”

“Well, yes. But what if we stayed for a while. We could meet up with Toph, maybe be helpful to King Kuei. And the Kyoshi warriors are in and out of Ba Sing Se all the time, now. You’d definitely run into Suki.” 

Katara is only really half serious, expecting Sokka point out the many flaws in her plan. Instead, he claps his hands together. “You know what, Katara? That’s a great idea! We don’t need Appa to get to Ba Sing Se!” 

Katara notices that he says ‘Appa’ and not ‘Aang.’ 

“We can go together! It’ll be great! I bet dad would let us use the ice dodger. That should get us at least as far as the southern Earth Kingdom territories. Then we could go on foot…”

Sokka—never one to contemplate an idea in silence—talks all the way back to the village. Katara is unsure how her father will react to the plan, now fully realized in Sokka’s mind. Still, she allows her thoughts to drift to what it might be like, living in the city, walking along the inner walls, visiting the gardens…

Suddenly she notices something that draws her up short. She puts her arm out to stop Sokka, who has just finished explaining how—theoretically—you could zipline across the Great Divide. There in the harbor, is an armed fire navy ship, just like the one Zuko came in over a year ago. For a second, Katara is flooded with familiar fears. _Did something happen to Zuko? Did the war start up again?_

The moment of terror passes, but she remains wary. She turns to her brother and sees a hard look in his eyes. They run the last mile home.

* * *

The city of Omashu is built into the side of a mountain, with Bumi’s palace at the peak. The main thoroughfares leading upward are just wide enough for Appa to squeeze through, so Aang decides to walk.

Somehow, the city is more tense now than it was under Fire Nation occupation. Aang sees neighbors peering out at each other through slits in their windows. Cart owners transact their sales hurriedly, and shoppers rush home without stopping to speak to anyone.

In the Kolau Mountains, winter is bitter cold, and flurries of snow begin falling as Aang climbs higher. As the Avatar, he is used to people stopping him, staring at him, crowding around him on the street—but here in Omashu, people barely glance at him before pulling hoods down around their faces and shuffling on about their business. Aang suspects this has nothing to do with the cold weather and everything to do with the violent anti-noble graffiti he spots etched onto the city walls.

Aang is too late to help Bumi. He arrives at the palace to find the palace in full mourning. A group of servants wearing white armbands shepherd Appa into Flopsie’s overlarge stables. A diminutive middle-aged woman named Min introduces herself as Bumi’s steward. She too wears a white armband and her hair is tied back under a dark veil. Funeral clothes. 

“Oh no…” Aang says. “It’s not…Tell me it isn’t…”

“King Bumi?” says Min. “I’m afraid so. The funeral was this morning.”

Aang realizes quickly that, while Min must have been an incredibly efficient steward, emotions annoy her. Twice, as she leads him through the palace, Aang tries to offer his condolences, and each time Min sniffs like she’s smelling something unpleasant. Finally, they arrive at a simple wooden doorway.

“The King’s chambers,” Min explains. “He said that you might stay here if anything should happen—that is to say if the king should—” She sniffs violently. “Well, in any case, here you are. If there’s nothing else, I’ll let you settle in.” Before Aang can so much as thank her, Min is gone.

Bumi’s room is surprisingly simple, with only a wooden bed, a dresser, and a desk that looks out over the city’s vast mail delivery system. A lot about Bumi had changed in the hundred years since Aang knew him as a child, but this room reminds him so much of his old friend that it makes him weep. 

Momo stays with Aang until his tears subside, but leaps out the window the minute they dry up. Aang can see him flying from mail cart to mail cart looking for packages of food. 

After about a quarter hour, there is a knock at the door, and a wisp of a person slips through the crack. The wisp is tall and very dark skinned, with close cropped curly hair. Aang notices they are wearing the orange and yellows of an Air Nomad. Fury rises in his chest, momentarily overtaking his grief. _How dare this person pretend to be an Air Nomad!_

But then they speak, and Aang’s anger turns to confusion.

“Walk and do no harm, Avatar.” A traditional greeting of the Air Nomads, accompanied by palms to the heart. Aang hasn’t heard that expression in over a hundred years, not since the Air Nation genocide.

“Are you an airbender?” Aang asks, heart hammering. _Maybe there are more out there! Maybe I’m not the last, after all!_

“No,” the wisp sighs, “but I _am_ Air Nation. My grandfather was Yutso the Elder of the Eastern Air Temple. He wasn’t an airbender, either, I’m afraid. You are truly the last of our heritage—and I should know. I’ve been tracing the temple bloodlines for years now…” 

Disappointment stokes Aang’s rising temper. This person raised his hopes only to dash them again. He is about to say something cutting, but then he notices that the wisp looks just as angry as he does.

Momentarily lost for words, Aang decides to try out an old Air Nation custom of his own, as a test, just to see how they respond…

“I am Aang, and I claim the pronouns he, him, and his.”

The wisp grins broadly and responds, “I am Caihong and I claim the pronouns they, them, and theirs! _Wow,_ I haven’t heard that since I was a little kid!”

Aang nods. He’s glad he clarified this person’s pronouns, but he’s also now positive that Caihong isn’t lying; they are Air Nation. Only nomads used the old high greetings.

Aang’s thoughts, temporarily diverted, return to his grief and to the Earth King. “Did you know Bumi, Caihong?” 

“I was his personal physician for two years.” Caihong looks sadly around the room. “I thought of Bumi as a personal friend.”

“What happened to him?” Aang asks.

“Well, that’s what they want me to talk to you about.” Their voice lowers an octave. “Only a handful of people know this, but Bumi was poisoned. There was shirshu toxin in his tea. I found the vial on his desk next to this note.”

Caihong hands the scrap of paper to Aang, but only two characters are written on it: _Neutral Jing._ Aang remembers Bumi teaching him about Neutral Jing—the idea that sometimes it is better to wait out a fight, instead of attack or defend. 

“The thing about Shirshu toxin is that you need take quite a lot, and it has a very bitter taste. There’s no way Bumi drank this whole cup of tea without meaning to.”

“What are you saying, Caihong?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but I believe Bumi took his own life. I can’t think of any other reasonable explanation.”

 _Or someone set it up to look that way._ Aang glances down at the scrawled note. “Can you tell me anything about Kai Kozu. Is it possible he had Bumi assassinated and covered his tracks with the shirshu toxin?”

Caihong doesn’t answer immediately. Momo has just flown in through the open window, and they pause for a minute, pensively scratching the fur behind his ears. It’s only when the lemur has curled up in their lap that Caihong speaks again.

“Kai Kozu is _very_ dangerous. He has spies everywhere in this city, and there is no question he wanted Bumi gone. If it had been anything other than Sirshu toxin, I would be convinced he did it.”

“Where is Kai Kozu now?” Aang asks.

“Up until a week ago, he was in Chin. Nobody knows for sure where he is now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he were headed for Omashu. He could be here already.”

“What makes you think that he would come to Omashu, Caihong?”

Caihong lowers their voice, visibly uncomfortable. “Well, Bumi was one of the two great Earth Kings. Every noble in the southern provinces is here in the palace right now. They want to hear how he’s divided up his property. He doesn’t have an heir, you know? And even though the palace has taken on twice as many guards, I wouldn’t put it past Kai Kozu to try something. It’s just too big an opportunity to waste.”

Aang doesn’t bother to hide his look of disgust, half for the murderous Kai Kozu, and half the Earth Kingdom nobles who descended on Bumi’s palace like vultures the minute they heard he was gone.

But Aang is an airbender, and he knows how to use his opponent’s moves to his advantage. “If Kai Kozu is going to try something, then I’m going to be there when it happens. The best way to catch him out is to let him make the first move.” _See Bumi,_ Aang thinks, _Neutral Jing._

* * *

Katara and Sokka arrive at the harbor to find their father in animated conversation with a man he introduces as Commander Han. Everything about the commander indicates his high status in the fire navy. His top knot is even clinched with a golden phoenix—a symbol of honor in battle. 

Katara blinks. He’s just standing there, one hand pressed against the hull of his Fire Nation battleship, exchanging war stories with her Water Tribe father. She wonders if she could imagine a stranger sight without drinking cactus juice.

Commander Han finishes telling a particularly lively tale about an over-eager recruit, who saluted the Fire Lord flag so hard, he knocked himself overboard and into the ocean. As they’re laughing, it strikes Katara that the strangest thing isn’t the differences between the two men, but their similarities. Both have knotted, tan hands. Both stand straight and proud. Both laugh loudly and deeply, but have a little sadness in their eyes. Katara can count a handful of gold teeth in the commander’s wide smile.

When his story is finished, Commander Han turns to Katara, wiping away mirthful tears. “Master Katara, I have an invitation from the Fire Lord. He requires a healer, and he _specifically_ requested you for the job.”

“Is he sick?” Sokka asks, concerned.

“He is not,” says the officer. “The healer is not for him, but for someone else. I regret that I cannot be more specific.”

“It’s alright, Commander Han. I think I can guess that my patient would be Princess Azula.” 

Commander Han can’t conceal his astonishment. “How did you—”

“Oh, we’ve always had to stay one step ahead of Fire Lord Zuko.” Katara says, dryly.

“He chased us around the world for a while, tried to capture the Avatar,” Sokka interjects. “You know what? You know the story…”

“I’m a novice healer, Commander Han. The Fire Lord has the royal physicians. He could call Yaguda, if he really needed a waterbender. If he’s asking for my help, it’s because Azula is sick, and he thinks I’m the only one who will treat her. You see how I could make the logical leap.”

Commander Han acknowledges her reasoning this with a bow of the head, but does not offer any more information. Katara knows better than to ask. Azula must be very sick if Zuko has sent such a high naval officer to the Water Tribe with so much unrest brewing in the Earth Kingdom.

“This is great!” Sokka says brightly, and three heads turn to stare at him.

“Well, not the part about Azula, of course” he amends. “I mean it’s great that you’re here, Commander Han. You see, my sister and I were _just_ thinking about spending some time in Ba Sing Se. If you wouldn’t mind taking me on as an extra passenger— and I can work, too! —Katara can heal Azula. Then we can leave from the Fire Nation and have a much easier trip!”

Katara glances at her father. She knows Sokka mentioned the trip like this as a strategy. If Commander Han thinks their journey to Ba Sing Se is a forgone conclusion, it might be embarrassing for Hakoda to admit that he didn’t know anything about it. But no such luck. Hakoda’s eyebrows go up.

“Were you planning on discussing this with me first?”

“Uhhh…” Sokka wavers. “We sort of didn’t have time. The idea just came to us out on the ice floes, and we came back to a Fire Navy ship ready to take Katara halfway there.”

Hakoda nods, then turns to Commander Han, “You’ve been telling me about what’s happening in the Earth Kingdom. Do you think it’s safe to even consider traveling there right now?”

Katara expects the Fire Navy officer to dismiss the idea, but to her surprise, he gives it a moment of thought.

“I believe that the great city itself is perfectly safe. Ba Sing Se been a monarchist stronghold for hundreds of years. As a matter of fact, my own daughter is there right now, studying at the university. Personally, I would be more concerned about the journey through the provinces. I would avoid Kyoshi and Chin all together, but I _think_ they could travel through the other provinces with an adult.”

Seeing Sokka and Katara’s indignant expressions, he adds, “I know that you can handle yourselves, but it’s mostly kids your age who are joining the rebellions. If you travel on your own, you’ll be suspected out of hand.”

Hakoda nods, processing Commander Han’s advice. “I’m sorry Sokka,” he says. “But I have work to do here, and I can’t go with you to the Earth Kingdom. I’m afraid Ba Sing Se will have to wait.”

“But Dad!”

“We can talk about this later, but right now it’s your sister’s turn, Sokka.” Hakoda’s voice is firm, but not unkind. Still, Katara knows it takes every bit of Sokka’s self-control to let the issue drop. “Now, Katara, do you want to go to the Fire Nation to heal Azula? Nobody would blame you if you decide to stay here. I know your history with the princess is…complicated.”

Katara turns to Commander Han. “My friends and I are supposed to meet on the solstice in Ba Sing Se. That’s why my brother wants to get to the city. Do you know if the Fire Lord is still planning to go? Can Azula even recover by then?”

“It’s very difficult to say…” Han hesitates, unsure how much he should disclose. “Right now, the Fire Lord is concerned with the physical health of the princess, but I think you know that she is also suffering in her mind. To heal the one—it would be a matter of weeks, healing the other would be a much longer proposition.”

“But is that what the Fire Lord wants? When I left the palace this summer, he was only interested in what his advisors had to say about it, and all they wanted to do was lock Azula in a dungeon.”

“I think he could be… _persuaded_.” Commander Han’s eyes twinkle.

Katara glances out past the harbor and onto the open ocean, feeling the lure of a new path suddenly open to her. She’s invigorated by the thought of being useful again, of somehow healing Azula’s spirit as well as her body—so what if she misses Ba Sing Se? She is a healer, and she has a patient to care for.

“When can we leave?”

Katara catches another flash of the commander’s gold teeth. “We sail at your command”

* * *

The hall of the Earth King’s palace is lit to the vaulted ceilings by twelve great fireplaces and hundreds of opulent floating lanterns, effectively driving out the chill of the snowy night. There are thousands of woody plants and ivies laid out decoratively across hearths and slung the length of sturdy wooden tables. Jolly music rises over the sound of at least a hundred Earth Kingdom nobles, who are all drinking and laughing as if they are celebrating a wedding, not mourning a fallen King.

Aang’s tattoos are covered up by a hunter green tunic and a boxy brown hat that Caihong insisted was the latest style. He’s not exactly undercover, but he is avoiding unnecessary attention. He keeps to the edges of the crowd, watching the revelers. Their excess and their callousness offend him. It is clear not a one of them actually cared about Bumi. 

Somewhere, Caihong is keeping an eye on things, too. Aang is happy to have an ally in the palace, especially one from his own culture. Aang’s memories of the Air Nation have become a little like a mural, depicting a finer, more uncomplicated life. It’s perfection, but it’s frozen. Caihong is like a piece of the mural broken off and come to life.

Aang is passing a drinks table, when his vision is arrested by a very pretty girl. She is maybe seventeen or eighteen. Her hair is piled on top of her head and pinned with a golden comb. The dress she’s wearing is embroidered with tiny dragons from the hem all the way up to her collarbone. In the firelight the golden threads are mesmerizing. Aang’s eyes narrow. There’s something familiar about her.

She sees him staring, and gracefully removes herself from a conversation with two young men. “Stay right there. I’m going to find us some more punch.” Her voice is deep and even.

Then she’s standing in front of Aang, arms crossed. _It’s Mai._

Aang struggles to reconcile the smiling Earth Kingdom girl from a minute ago, with the woman standing in front of him now. Her clothes and hair are different, but it’s more than that. Her whole demeanor transformed in front of him like a magic trick. For the first time Aang appreciates how truly dangerous she is. 

“What are you doing in the Earth Kingdom, Mai?”

“I was very close to King Bumi. I wanted to pay my respects” she says flatly.

“Oh yeah, than what’s the name of his pet goat-gorilla?”

“Flipsie?” Mai guesses. Then she rolls her eyes. “Fine. I’m here for the same reason you are. I’m looking for Kai Kozu.”

“Why do you care about an Earth Kingdom insurgent?” Aang notches an eyebrow.

Mai shrugs. “It’s a good excuse to miss the Ember Island Players.” Aang winces, remembering every horrible scene from “The Boy in the Iceberg.”

“Seriously Mai. I’m the Avatar. You should talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

“Listen Aang, it’s not just the Earth Kingdom. Kai Kozu wants to eliminate nobility in every nation. He’s even working with a group of high-ranking Fire Nation officials calling themselves the Sons of Azulon. They’re targeting Zuko.”

“But why would he do that?! Zuko has been nothing but good for the Fire Nation!”

Mai snickers. “It’s not about good or bad, Aang. Kai Kozu wants every nation to be governed by the people, like they do in the Water Tribe. A lot of people really like that idea, especially here.”

“But Kai Kozu is a murderer. He killed Bumi!”

“Probably,” admits Mai. “But his followers don’t care. They feel like it’s payback for years of oppression. Besides, he’s supposed to be very charismatic. People like that will always have people who are willing to follow them.”

Just then, Aang catches Caihong waving frantically from across the room. By the time Aang reaches them, they are crouched, poking at a congealed liquid on the floor. They hold up a finger of the goop for Aang to inspect.

“What does this smell like to you?”

Aang gingerly brings his nose closer. “That’s blasting jelly!” He says a little too loud; heads turn. “It’s blasting jelly...” He repeats in a whisper. “But where did it come from?”

Caihong stands, wipes their hands on the front of their tunic, and points to the ceiling. Sure enough, one of the hundreds of hanging lanterns is dripping blasting jelly slowly onto the flagstone floor.

“It’s genius,” Caihong whispers. “The lanterns are already lit. Put a little blasting jelly in the bottom and it’s a bomb ready to go off.”

“But they wouldn’t hurt anybody all the way up there,” Aang reasons.

Caihong shakes their head. “See how the lanterns are hooked onto those little gold rings. Those rings are attached to strings that go up into the ceiling. They’re raised and lowered by a pully system. If you turn that crank right there on the wall, every single one will drop slowly to the ground. And if you press the release switch, they all come crashing down.” 

“So, all Kai Kozu needs to do is press that release switch and—

“And, _kaboom_ , yes.”

“Caihong, this is good!” Aang sees the startled look on the physician’s face “It means whoever presses that switch is either Kai Kozu or they can lead us directly to him!”

“Aang, I don’t think we should risk it. We should get everyone out.”

“Trust me,” Aang says. “I have a friend here who can help us. We’re gonna find the person who killed Bumi, I swear.”

Caihong doesn’t look convinced. “Aang I told you, Bumi couldn’t have—”

“I know what you said,” Aang puts a hand up to silence them. “But I still think we’ll get more clarity from Kai Kozu. Can you keep an eye on the release switch for me while I find my friend?”

“Fine.” Caihong says, reluctantly. “Just be quick, okay? I’m a doctor. I’m no good in a fight.”

Aang nods, and slips back into the crowd to find Mai.

If Mai is perturbed by the idea of hundreds of undetonated bombs hanging thirty feet in the air above her, she does not show it. She’s also quick to understand the plan:

“So, we create a distraction on the far side of the hall, the crowd gathers far away from the switch, we keep an eye on the switch, and whoever tries to trip it is either Kai Kozu or a good lead.”

“Exactly,” Aang says. “I was thinking I would be the one to make the distraction. I could do some fancy air bending... You know, really show off!” He smiles, actually kind of excited at the prospect.

Mai frowns. “That would tip your hand. It’s better to hide your capabilities until they’re needed.”

“Well, what do you suggest?” Aang asks, irked.

“Leave it to me. I have an idea that won’t give away anything they could use against us in a fight. You and…Caihong, you said their name was?... You two keep an eye on that switch.” And with that, Mai stalks off to the far end of the hall.

Aang returns to Caihong who is standing diligently in front of the pully, their back ramrod straight.

“Not that close,” whispers Aang through clenched teeth. “Kai Kozu won’t try anything with you standing there like a glider stuck in the mud.” Caihong twitches nervously and steps aside. Aang takes his place, too, leaning casually against one of the massive fireplaces. Now all they have to do is wait for Mai.

The music stops. There is muttering in the crowd and people begin to press together, away from the switch. _She did it!_ thinks Aang. _But can she keep them there?_

A hush falls over the crowd, and in the silence echoes a note plucked on a harp. The other instruments join in: fiddles, reeds, even a baleful tsungi horn. It’s a sad and beautiful melody. Then above the band, a deep and lovely voice rises. “O, gentle Oma atop the high mountain…”

Aang grins. _The Ballad of Oma and Shu. Way to go Mai._

By the time she gets to the part about the shroud of mountain snow, Aang can see people dabbing at tears with delicately embroidered handkerchiefs. Mai finishes the song and there are cries for more. She stalls for a bit, but then cues the band into a traditional Chin working song.

For over an hour, Mai holds the crowed transfixed. The lanterns begin to burn low. Soon the flames will go out completely, and they will be useless to the assassin. Aang notices one of the young Earth Kingdom nobles he saw talking to Mai edging towards them. He is extremely tall. Even crouched low he is noticeable among the crowd. His shaved head and the beard that runs his jawline mark him out. He’s either hopelessly out of fashion, or he isn’t an Earth Kingdom noble at all. He cuts away from the crowd towards the pully, and as he does so, he draws out a short black dagger. 

A second before he reaches the release switch, Aang attacks. He draws one of the flagstones up from the floor and sends it careening towards the assassin. The man jumps and clears the giant stone with a graceful turn. He takes another pass at the lever, but Aang, realizing the danger, draws in his breath and concentrates.

The flames in the explosive lanterns burn with a sudden vehemence. The blasting jelly ignites, triggering the bombs thirty feet above with a deafening crash. Shards of glass shoot down towards the crowd below…

Slicing his arm diagonally, Aang creates a current of air that knocks the falling shards back and away from the crowd. They land harmlessly on the far side of the hall with a sound like a thousand tiny windchimes. 

“Nice bending, Avatar.” The assassin looks at him, impressed, like he’s some sort of benevolent older sibling. Aang notices somewhat grudgingly that he is exceptionally handsome. 

The second the glass shards dissipate, Mai takes a running leap into the crowd, jumping lightly from head to head and shoulder to shoulder. She lands in front of the assassin and draws her throwing stars. “You’re surrounded Kai Kozu,” she says. 

The assassin looks right, at the spot where Aang is standing, ahead at Mai, then left at Caihong. His back is pressed against the wall—no escaping that way.

In a flash, the man slides behind Caihong and presses his black dagger to their throat; even Mai’s darts can’t touch him. Dragging Caihong, he slips through a wide stone passageway leading back into the palace. Mai and Aang are close behind him, trailing his coattails through rooms and long corridors. As they move deeper into the palace, the rooms grow darker. Aang conjures a flame in his palm. Behind them, the sound of a hundred confused and angry nobles fades into nothing. 

At last, they come up against a flat grey stone wall. They look left and right; it’s a dead end. Mai is the one who discovers the body crumpled in the corner, nearly tripping over it in the shadows. She flips it, and finds Caihong collapsed in a dead faint. Wasting no time, she slaps them roughly across the face. 

“What happened?” they ask in a groggy voice.

The flame cupped in Aang’s hand burns a little brighter as he inspects the room. There is no sign of the assassin. The walls are smooth and unadorned; there’s nowhere to hide. But Aang has one more trick up his sleeve. Bending down, he removes one of his shoes and then his sock.

“Um, what are you doing?” Mai asks.

“Toph taught me how to see with my feet. I’ve only been able to do it once—when I was fighting Ozai—but I’m going to give it a try, anyway.”

“Gross…” Mai whispers, helping Caihong to stand.

Aang brings his foot down hard on the floor. He feels the reverberations stretch out and return to him in a clear picture of the space. Sure enough, hidden under one of the larger flagstones, there is a concealed entryway into the sewers. Aang pulls the stone up roughly, revealing a gentle downward current of scummy water.

“Nope.” Mai lifts her hands in protest. “I’m out.”

“Seriously?” Aang asks.

“I don’t do sewers, kid. Where’s your flying bison? I’ll keep an eye on the city by air in case Kai Kozu comes up again.”

Aang doesn’t have time to argue with Mai, although he’s not sure she knows what she’s getting herself into with Appa. “He’s in the stables. The command is yip yip.”

“I know,” Mai says over her shoulder. “I saw ‘The Boy in the Iceberg, too.’” Aang flushes crimson, wondering if he will ever hear the end of that play.

“I’ll come with you!” Caihong says, brushing the dust of the floor off their tunic. 

Aang has to admit, he’s impressed at how quickly they’ve recovered from their run in with Kai Kozu. Caihong is certainly resilient. Still, his eyes fix on their bony arms and narrow frame. Aang can’t help thinking that they would be a liability.

“I may not be any good in a fight, but you never know when you’ll need a doctor,” they say, and, reluctantly, Aang agrees. They plop down one by one into the tunnel below.

* * *

Kanna helps Katara pack, while Sokka complains.

“I’m a warrior, with warrior skills. I helped take down the Fire Lord and the Melon Lord.”

“Sokka, the Melon Lord was Toph.” Katara is folding her lightest shifts, barely listening to her older brother.

“I’m sure there are people in the world who think she’s objectively scarier!”

Katara rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you come with me then! I could use the company, and it would give you a change of scenery.”

Sokka looks away and doesn’t answer. Katara realizes that a part of him is still hoping that Aang is coming back. She stops packing and puts a hand on her brother’s shoulder.

“Look, it doesn’t matter if Aang comes back or not. You’ll find a way forward. For what it’s worth, I hope Dad changes his mind about Ba Sing Se.”

“Thanks, Katara” he says, and hugs her tight.

When it comes time for Katara to say goodbye to her grandmother, she is crying. “I can’t believe I have to leave you again,” she whispers in the old woman’s ear.

Kanna comes closer and wipes away the tears that cling to Katara’s lashes with a gentle swipe of her gloved hand. “Oh, my little waterbender, it makes me sad, too. Sadder than I can even say. But I’ve known since you were a little girl that I couldn’t keep you with me always. You have too much _heart_ in you for just one nation. Like water, you go where you’re needed.” She pulls Katara into a hug and whispers in her ear, “Your mother would be so proud of you.”

Within the hour, Katara is on the ship and sailing north at forty knots towards the Fire Nation.


	3. Chapter 3

Kai Kozu left no trace, but the tunnel is narrow and straight. Eventually it tapers off so much that Aang and Caihong have to crouch low. Aang goes first, his flame held aloft. He can hear Caihong behind him, but just barely. The physician has a surprisingly sly step. Eventually, the silence grows uncomfortable, and Aang searches for something to say. 

“You know, it was great to meet someone from the Air Nation again!” 

“Tell me about it!” Caihong says. “Ever since I left my family behind in Chin, I’ve been missing our culture. Omashu is fine, but it isn’t home.”

“I wish you could have seen the way it used to be, Caihong. You would have loved it!” Aang imagines taking Caihong on a picnic to the long field where the Sky Bison used to graze. He pictures the look on their face seeing a baby bison for the first time…

“It’s a shame neither of us are spiritbenders, right?” Caihong’s voice cuts into his reverie. “Then we could bring it all back!”

Aang stops dead in his tracks, and Caihong runs right into him, pitching them both headfirst into the muck. Aang waterbends their clothes dry, praying to the spirits that this is a storm drain carrying rainwater out of the city.

“What do you mean spiritbenders, Caihong?”

“Oh, you never heard those stories?” they ask, offhandedly. “It must have been an Eastern Air Temple thing. My dad used to scare me with all them all the time. You know, finish your food or the spiritbenders will get you, that sort of thing…”

“But what are spiritbenders?” Aang tries to hide the tremor in his voice.

“Well, they were people, I guess. But they had the ability to take away and give bending powers. I wasn’t a bender, so that part didn’t scare me so much. The part that really got me was that they also took part of your _spirit_.”

“Your spirit?” Aang is hardly breathing. Six months ago, he had taken Fire Lord Ozai’s bending. He had never heard of anyone doing that before, but he had embraced it as a blessing. It was the only way to end the war without taking the Fire Lord’s life. But since that time, Aang had felt irritable and inflexible. _Was it possible I took some of Ozai’s spirit?_

“Scary, right?” Caihong laughs. “Can you imagine someone walking around with my sense of humor? It would serve them right when nobody laughs at their jokes.”

Without warning, Aang extinguishes the flame in his hand, and they are plunged into intractable darkness.

“Aang, what—”

“Shhh.” The Avatar presses his finger to his lips, a gesture Caihong almost certainly cannot see. “I hear voices up ahead. I think we’re getting close to the exit.”

Sure enough, as they continue, a dim reddish light appears at the end of the tunnel, the air feels fresher, and the voices grow louder. The tunnel lets out into an underground revisor. Impossibly high stone arches cover an expanse of crystalline waters stretching out into the darkness. Aang can tell by the damp, muffled way sound moves in the cavern that they are miles beneath the city. 

Out on the water there is a dais connected to the spot where Caihong and Aang are standing by a simple narrow walkway. The dais is lit with lanterns, candelabras, and tiny bonfires—a little sphere of light in the enormous cave. Dozens of ordinary Earth Kingdom citizens—adults and children alike—are gathered there. For so many people, they are actually making very little sound. Even the children are sitting listlessly, resting against each other or on boxes marked “Flammable: Do Not Touch.”

“Stay here,” Aang whispers to Caihong. When it seems like Caihong is about to argue, Aang cuts them off. “If something happens, I need you to go back for help.” They nod reluctantly.

Aang doesn’t bother sneaking up on the crowd. He walks along the platform to the dais, moving among the people. They start to mutter, noticing his fancy tunic, so he takes it off and tucks it gently around a toddler sleeping alone on the floor. A plain undershirt obscures his arrows.

Aang notices many of the adults are missing limbs, or teeth, or eyes. A few people crowd together, possibly they are families, but most are alone. They pass trays of food and tin cups, sharing tiny mouthfuls of bread and watery stew. Aang’s eyes water. He hasn’t seen suffering like this since he found his people brutalized and destroyed on the side of a mountain. _Who would do this?_

The assassin is sitting at a desk in a high-backed wooden chair, scribbling something impatiently on an official looking form. Aang approaches and is startled by the intensity of his clear gray eyes. The man smiles warmly as if he is pleasantly surprised to see an old friend.

“Avatar Aang, I didn’t think you would find us all the way down here. Please have a seat.” The man indicates a chair in front of the desk, which Aang ignores.

“You’re Kai Kozu aren’t you?” Aang asks. The man nods his head in assent, but his attention is back to the form on his desk. “You killed my friend Bumi, and you almost killed a hundred people just now! You’re a murderer and a terrorist, and you need to face justice.”

A middle-aged man hovering just behind Kai Kozu snorts. “Justice? There’s no justice in the Earth Kingdom!”

Kai Kozu puts up a hand to calm the man. “Huan, please let me handle this. The Avatar doesn’t understand the situation, yet. In the meantime, make sure this form makes it to Kyoshi, won’t you? Then start distributing blankets for the night and give us a minute to talk.” 

Huan snatches the document angrily from Kai Kozu’s hand and steps away. Aang notices he limps on a twisted leg.

Kai Kozu’s grey eyes settle once more on Aang. “Crushed under a nobleman’s carriage,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“Huan’s leg. I saw you watching him just now.”

Aang tries not to betray the shock and anger he feels hearing such things told in such a matter-of-fact tone. The worst part is, he doesn’t even think Kai Kozu was looking for a reaction from him. In fact, in all the time Aang’s been there, Kai Kozu has barely glanced up from his desk. Eventually, though, he does set pen and ink aside. Once again, Aang shifts uncomfortably under his gaze.

“You may not believe me right now, but I am _not_ a murderer or a terrorist. You need to let me explain the way things are here in the Earth Kingdom.”

Aang hesitates, wondering if he should listen to anything Kai Kozu has to say. Eventually his curiosity gets the better of him. “Fine,” he says. “Go ahead.”

Kai Kozu leans back in his chair, rubs his palms together, and begins his tale…

“Part of the reason the war went on for a hundred years was because the Earth Kingdom wanted it that way. When the war started, the nobles were having trouble controlling the peasant population, so they just sent the rowdiest ones to the front lines… That went on for about fifty years, but then the people started to get angry. 

“Nobles and merchants took shelter in large fortified cities like Omashu and Ba Sing Se. They created private prisons and secret police like the Dai Li. Thousands of people were sent to labor camps. They made weapons which the Earth Kingdom nobles sold to both the Earth Kingdom _and_ to the Fire Nation.”

Aang looks unconvinced, but Kai Kozu slides an intake form across the table, signed by Admiral Zhao, before he continues with his story.

“The nobles were safe in their fortified cities. So, you see, they didn’t care if the Fire Nation took the countryside. A lot of these people’s homes were destroyed. They had nowhere to go but the cities, where the secret police targeted them because they were poor and dirty.”

“That’s terrible,” Aang says. But it’s no reason to murder people. That’s not justice; it’s revenge.”

“What should I do then, Avatar?” Kai Kozu takes a sip of tea that has been cooling on his desk.

“You could have talked to Bumi or tried the high court! You could have come to me!”

“Let me take those suggestions one at a time. King Bumi was a great leader in many ways, but he had failings.” When he sees that Aang about to interrupt he puts up a hand and continues. 

“I grew up in Omashu. My father worked in the palace kitchens. King Bumi was always very kind to me. When I was fifteen, he put me through a series of insane tests that nearly killed me. I passed his tests by pure chance, and he gave me the opportunity to go to the university in Ba Sing Se. I studied law and eventually I _did_ argue against this corruption in the high court. For my trouble, I was thrown into prison in Lake Laogai. 

“After you ended the war, I was released. I came home to find that King Bumi had allowed the Fire Nation to take over Omashu. Hundreds of people were hurt in the occupation.

“Do you know why the nobles have let Bumi stay on the throne so long? It’s because his mind was failing. He was slipping further and further into insanity. The nobles could keep running the labor camps right under his nose! Only instead of weapons, they started making luxury goods for the Fire Nation.” 

Kai Kozu hands Aang his half-finished mug of tea. Stamped on the bottom in gold print are the words _Chin Factory—Earth Kingdom_.

“In the end, more people in Bumi’s palace were working for me than for Bumi himself. They understand our cause. That’s how I got the guest list tonight. Every single person in that room tonight, with the exception of you and Lady Mai were directly responsible for at least one work camp. Since we can’t put an end to this in the courts, we needed to find other ways.”

“And what about King Bumi?” Aang asks.

“I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you think.” Kai Kozu says, leaning back in his chair. “But I can tell you who did: your new friend, Caihong.”

Aang’s stomach drops. “Caihong didn’t kill Bumi. They wouldn’t—”

“Caihong is very loyal to their family in Chin. The province recently declared its independence from the Earth Kingdom, and I understand many of the noble families were taken prisoner there. It wouldn’t be difficult to tell Caihong that— if they didn’t use their position as royal physician to elimate the earth king—that they would never see their family again—or so I imagine.”

“That’s evil,” Aang spits.

“It’s not, though. Caihong’s family may be Air Nation, but they run one of the largest work camps in Chin. Notice the design on that mug.”

Aang looks closer and sees a tiny crane pattern—a traditional design of the Air Nomads. Aang closes his eyes, trying not to betray his anger and hurt. “What about Fire Lord Zuko?” He asks after a minute. “You’re trying to assassinate him too, and he’s done nothing wrong!”

“I’m not very interested in the Fire Nation, except as a means of getting information on the Earth Kingdom. In spite of what the absolutely lovely Lady Mai might think, I don’t have the names or any other information about a coup. If information is being passed in Omashu, I imagine it is one of the Earth Kingdom nobles whose business interests are threatened by a powerful Fire Lord.” Kai Kozu looks at Aang, not unkindly. “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

Aang doesn’t know what to believe. He glances out at the group of broken, beleaguered peasants, his mind racing. Kai Kozu is an excellent lawyer, and knows when to begin his final argument.

“Imagine you were in my place, Avatar Aang. Imagine that these people are your people. They have been oppressed and eliminated by the noble class. Instead of killing Fire Lord Ozai, you took his bending. But I’m a simple earthbender; I don’t have that option. And even you can’t take the bending of an entire cabal. I’m asking you seriously, what would you have me do?”

Aang remembers finding his mentor, Monk Gyatzo, dead in the snow, the victim of a Fire Nation attack. _To save the Air Nation, what might I risk? How far would I go?_

At last Aang speaks: “I recognize that these people have suffered. As the Avatar, they are my people, too. But violence isn’t the answer. Give me some time to figure this out. I’m sure I can find a solution that works for everyone.”

Kai Kozu smiles, his attention already returning to the stack of papers on his desk. “I’m grateful to you, Avatar Aang, and I hope that you’re successful in concluding this matter peacefully. I know that you will need some time to think, and I must return to my work. But please come see me again.” He points to a spot in the darkness near Caihong’s hiding place. “Use the staircase that leads up into the city. It’s the fastest way in and out of the resevoir.”

Accepting his dismissal, Aang turns to leave. He’s only gone a few paces when his curiosity gets the better of him again. “How did you find this place?” he asks over his shoulder.

“It was one of Bumi’s challenges.” Kai Kozu answers in his same matter-of-fact tone. “I had to find my way out of here in the dark. It took me three days.”   
Aang feels a shiver run down his spine. He wonders if he really knew his friend Bumi as well as he thought he did.

Caihong doesn’t see the water whip crack down on the back of their head. Aang doesn’t feel like confronting them now, and they are easy enough to carry up the stairs, in spite of their long limbs. They come out through a concealed door in the lower city.

By a stroke of luck, Appa is flying nearby. Aang signals to Mai and she lands heavily beside them. Her hair is tangled in impossible knots, and the wind and tears have smudged her makeup so that she looks a little like the Hei Bai spirit. 

“Never again.” She mutters under her breath. Then she notices Caihong. “What happened to them?” 

Aang explains everything as they fly back to the palace. This time, reassured by a familiar figure holding the reins, Appa bends the current around them, not straight into Mai’s face. Mai listens to Aang’s story, her lips pursed in a thin line.

Back at the palace, Aang takes Caihong to Bumi’s old chambers and locks them inside. Mai has a bedroom somewhere in the palace, and she leaves them for the night, but Aang stands guard outside the Earth King’s chamber door. Sometime after midnight, Momo catches up to him, fat from the noble’s feast. Aang strokes the lemur’s fur, thinking everything over.

Tomorrow, is the public reading of Bumi’s will, but Aang is not sure how it could possible fix the situation in Omashu. He can’t imagine any of the Earth Kingdom nobles willing to fight for the peasants, should they be named as Bumi’s successor…

Aang decides to think about something else… In spite of everything, spiritbending hasn’t left the back of his mind since Caihong mentioned it in the sewers. 

_Am I a spirit bender? Did I take in part of Ozai’s spirit? Is that why I’ve been so angry?_ This is the thing he didn’t want to admit to himself while watching the sun rise on his way to Omashu—even though he’s known the truth of it in his heart for months. Something about that day changed him.

Aang had thought that, in teaching him spiritbending, the lion turtle had given him a tremendous gift! A way out of killing Ozai! Instead it made everything ten times more complicated. _It’s infuriating_ , he thinks. _Can’t one little thing be easy for me?_

But Caihong had also said that spiritbenders could give bending. Did that mean that he could give airbending? Could he use his power to restore the Air Nation? He remembers what Katara had said: _What is a good world? What does that actually look like?_ He thinks he’s starting to understand what she was asking. 

He needs to know more, and there is only one person in the world he can think of who can help him. But it’s a long, long journey from Omashu, and he can’t leave the city until he’s sure its people are safe from the rising tide of unrest.

At the crack of dawn, Aang hears a knock on the other side of Bumi’s door.

“Why did you do it?” Aang asks.

“I didn’t,” Caihong’s voice is thick. “They told me they would kill my family, but I swear I didn’t. Bumi was my friend. I couldn’t betray him.”

“Then what happened to him, Caihong?”

“I told you, he must’ve taken the poison deliberately.”

“But why would he do that!” Aang shouts through the door.

“He did it to save me!” Caihong is crying, now, Aang can hear it in their voice. “I told him that they had my family right away, as soon as it happened. Bumi knew that if I didn’t obey their demands, they would be killed without a second thought. By choosing the Shirshu toxin, I wouldn’t fall under suspicion within the palace, and they would still think I’d done it. Don’t you see? Bumi was protecting me.” Aang hears Caihong’s long body slide down the door between them, collapsing into silent, wracking sobs.

Aang remembers Neutral Jing. _Bumi was crazy, but was he that crazy? And why would he give his own life for Caihong’s terrible family?_ And then Aang realizes— _it’s because they’re Air Nation._ Bumi wasn’t just protecting them, he was protecting their culture—Aang’s culture—and laying down his own life in the process. Aang sits in silence while the sky brightens, thinking of his complicated friend Bumi, wondering if he ever really understood him.

* * *

After sunrise, the nobles start to assemble outside the palace. Sparse flakes of snow left over from the night before swirl at their feet. There is a feeling of cheerful expectation among them, like a long-shot bet is about to come through on a game of dice.

There is a platform built into the palace terrace, for when the monarch needs to address the people directly. Beneath it, the peasant crowd begins to form. There is no festival attitude here. People come nervously, one by one, and they don’t make conversation.

Aang appears as the Avatar today, ceremonial robes neatly pleated and arrows gleaming. He might need to use his authority to keep the situation under control.

By midmorning, everyone is assembled. Nobles and peasants stand shivering in quiet anticipation. Min is in charge, ceremoniously delivering Bumi’s will to the palace crier. The man is dressed from head to toe in the most ridiculous livery Aang has ever seen. _Bumi must have picked it out,_ Aang thinks, trying to suppress a smile.

Trying not to trip on his own flowing train, the crier ascends the platform, turning his back on the nobles to face the gathered crowd of peasants below. The tension is thick, like the air before a snowstorm.

In a booming voice the crier reads out the first lines of the will:   
“King Bumi has appointed no successor to the throne of Omashu.” 

The entire gathered crowd erupts into noise. There are shouts of “what do you mean?” and “that’s not possible!” from the nobles on the terrace. As the message is passed back through the throng of peasants, the noise grows louder until it is a deafening roar. Aang summons a tiny current of air in between his fingers and expands it quickly to create a sonic boom, which rattles the terrace and stuns the audience into silence. 

“Ahem. Thank you, Avatar.” The crier continues, “Instead, King Bumi declares the City of Omashu and its surrounding territories to be a new republic, which is to be ruled by the people and for their benefit.” This time, the noise rises chiefly from the nobles’ side. Not even another sonic boom can quiet them. 

Events might have unfolded differently, except for a very fat bearded nobleman, who rushes up the platform, displaces the crier, and announces to the crowd that he is the next king of Omashu. The air echoes with outraged shouts. A rock rises from somewhere in the crowd below and strikes the nobleman’s temple with a sickening crack. He falls backwards off the platform and lies there, unmoving.

In an instant, the peasant crowd falls on the wall that separates the city from the palace above. Earthbenders bring down large chunks of terrace, and a mass of people climb over the debris. 

The nobles, mostly earthbenders, fight back with a hailstorm of rubble. Aang sees an old woman go down, clipped by a large falling stone. He tries to push the groups apart with a gust of air, but they are fighting in close quarters now, and it is impossible to separate them. Next he tries a circle of fire along the terrace, but the peasants keep coming, using his fire to ignite rooms in the palace.

Someone grabs him from behind, sharp nails digging into his shoulder. He turns to find Mai. “Will you stop setting things on fire?” She chides him. “You’re only going to make it worse.”

“Well, what’s your great idea?!” He asks, indignantly.

She looks down at him and crosses her arms. “Get on Appa and fly away. We can’t afford to lose the Avatar in an Earth Kingdom civil war.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s exactly what the Avatar is supposed to do! I have to protect these people.”

She studies him a minute, coolly. “You’re just as stubborn as Zuko, you know that?” Aang shrugs, and Mai rolls her eyes. 

“Fine, if you’re going to stick around here, then stay close to me. You’re good at a distance, Avatar, but you’re pathetic at hand-to-hand combat.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Aang says, before the peasant army falls on them and they are drawn into the fight.

It’s a few minutes before the smell of burning wood reaches them. At first Aang doesn’t think anything of it; the whole terrace is on fire, after all. Then he hears an animal shriek and his heart drops into his stomach. _The stables! Appa!_

He tries to bolt, but he’s caught in the crossfire between a young noble and an older merchant. They are powerful and evenly matched, although only the noble appears to be a bender. 

Aang pulls a current of air around himself and Mai to protect them as they walk through the fray. As they go, the young earthbender tries to whip a heavy stone at his opponent. It’s deflected by Aang’s current of air, and whips around again, too quickly for the noble to stop it. It catches him right in the chest, and he crumples.

“You see that?!” Cries the merchant. “The Avatar is on our side!”

In a flash, Mai, steps out of Aang’s protective current and catches the merchant with an uppercut to the throat. Gasping he heaves forward, and she knees him in the stomach. He’s completely disarmed, but it’s too late to stop his call being taken up by the crowd. With the moral authority of the Avatar behind them, the peasant army falls on the palace with renewed energy.

By the time they reach the stables, the fire is thirty feet in the air. The roof is completely engulfed, but it has not yet reached the enclosures below. Aang rushes forward, but Mai grabs his arm.

“Are you a firebender or not? Put it out before you go inside!”

Aang doesn’t know how to explain to Mai that ever since taking Ozai’s bending, his own firebending has changed. Now, it is easy for him to make fire, but much harder for him to put it out. The conflagration on the roof is beyond his ability to control, and he can’t see any water nearby.

He doesn’t waste time trying to answer. He pulls away from her and darts headlong into the stables. He can’t see Appa through the smoke, but he can hear his frightened grunting sounds from the other side of the enclosure.

As Aang moves through the stables, he uses his bending to free the animals from their stalls, taking water from their troughs to freeze the locks—a tricky move in the oppressive heat. Herds of wooly-pigs and moo sows rush out into the fresh air. Aang knows he is making himself vulnerable by using his bending this way, but he cares more for the animals’ safety than his own.

At last, he reaches Appa’s stall breaks the lock. Aang is relieved to see that Appa is unharmed, but they need to move quickly—heavy wooden beams are starting to crash down from the ceiling. Aang is about to climb onto Appa’s back when he remembers Flopsie, Bumi’s pet goat gorilla. Bumi loved Flopsie more than anything else in the world, and it’s the least Aang can do to try save him.

Over the roar of the fire, Aang yells for Appa to fly away if he’s not back in a minute, then steps into the inferno. Aang’s firebending is _just_ enough to clear a path, but it takes all of his focus. He searches every enclosure that isn’t already consumed by the flames—Flopsie is nowhere to be found. Eventually, the fire forces Aang back. Heart heavy, he returns to Appa. _I’m sorry, Bumi,_ he thinks. 

A falling beam gives them an opening to fly out. It isn’t very wide, and one of Appa’s front paws catches fire. Fortunately, it’s small and Aang is able to put it out, but he is unsettled by the effort it takes.

They land for just a minute to pick up Mai, then take off again. Aang wants to get an idea what’s happening from the air. As they rise, his heart stops. The fighting has spread to the lowest levels of Omashu. Everywhere, fires have sprung up. The palace is completely consumed by flame. For a second he thinks this might be another one of the crazy nightmares he used to get before a big battle. He looks down to make sure he’s wearing pants; which he is. Unfortunately, he is wide awake.

Then another thought occurs to him— _Caihong_. He left them locked in Bumi’s room. They have no way to escape! His eyes dart to that part of the palace, which is almost completely lost to the fire. He banks Appa so hard, that Mai nearly loses her grip. He can’t hear what she’s screaming at him over the commotion below, but he can guess it isn’t flattering.

They reach Bumi’s small window and hover there. Flames are shooting out of the room. Aang hopes it’s just the writing desk that’s caught fire, and the space behind it is still untouched. 

He uses water from a low cloud to calm the flames enough to see inside. Through the smoke and smoldering window, Aang can see a dark figure curled up by the bed, shaking. “Stay here!” Aang calls to Mai and takes a flying leap through the window. He tumbles gracefully, and lands beside Caihong. 

They are rocking back and forth, clenched hands pressed to their mouth, as if in prayer. Soot from the fire has covered their face and arms, and tears create black and brown rivulets on their cheeks. They reach their arms out to Aang, pleading. For all that he hates Caihong, Aang cannot leave them to die like this. He gathers Caihong into his arms like they are a child and uses the stones in the floor to propel them both out the window.

Aang overshoots by a few feet, but luckily Mai is quick enough to catch him by his collar before he and Caihong tumble into the inferno that is the palace below. She pulls them both up onto Appa.

“Agni’s sake! How did you manage to take down the Fire Nation?”

His heart is pounding to fast to respond. Instead, he checks on Caihong, who has fainted. Aang decides that they must face justice, but not at the expense of the city or its people. When they wake up, they help evacuate the city on Appa. If they should double cross him again, well, they would face the consequences.

Meanwhile, he and Mai would have to go down and find a way to save the city from destroying itself. Aang peers once more over Appa’s saddle at the raging fires and pitched battles below. It was going to be a long day…

* * *

Despite Aang and Mai’s best efforts, by nightfall Omashu is still a burning torch, the palace and all the upper city still ablaze. They make a powerful team, but fighting the crowd is like fighting a ten-headed sabre-tooth moose lion. The more they focus on evacuating the upper city, the more the lower city descends into chaos. When they turn their attention to the lower city, the fires in the upper city work downward. 

On a sweep of the lower city, Aang spots a group of men and women moving boxes hurriedly out of a broken storefront window. He has more important things to worry about than a couple of thieves, and he is about to move on when he notices a sharp jaw and a flash of deep grey eyes. 

“Kai Kozu!” He calls above the fray.

The man looks up but doesn’t drop the boxes in his arms. He calls Aang over to him with a jerk of the head.

“What are you doing?” Aang asks. “The city is on fire and you’re thieving? Help me get the people to safety!”

Kai Kozu still does not drop the boxes, and when he speaks his voice is clear and steady. “I’m not a thief. These boxes are full of leftover blasting jelly from last night. Somehow, I overestimated the explosives we would need, and now, if we don’t get them out of here before the fire reaches them, this whole block will be blown all the way to Ba Sing Se.”

Sure enough, Aang sees the red warning labels on the boxes flash past as they are handed from person to person. The fire is moving fast—too fast, he thinks, for Kai Kozu to clear the boxes in time. Aang knows what he needs to do.

With all the energy left in his body, Aang gathers a current of air around him, wheeling it into a funnel. _I’ll have to do this quickly,_ he thinks. Already he is having trouble breathing. He steps into the fire creeping towards the stockpile of blasting jelly. The flames die back inside the vortex, with little oxygen to sustain them, but Aang soon realizes it isn’t enough. Now he’s in an impossible situation: if he releases his vortex, the fire will rise stronger than before, but if he maintains it, he’ll pass out for lack of oxygen. 

Just as his vision starts to blur, he hears a soft thumping sound as tiny pieces of rubble rain down around him. Aang thinks for a minute that a building has collapsed. But the rubble lands gently, slowly, tamping down the fire until Aang is able to release his vortex. He sucks in deep lungfuls of smoky air.

He looks up to see Kai Kozu standing beside him, bending piles of debris from the broken city onto the fires around them. He grabs Aang by the collar of his tunic, and drags him backward away from the flames. 

Back in the clear night air, Mai catches up to them.

“Aang, you are so stupid!” She speaks in her usual flat tone, but then, unexpectedly, she throws herself forward and embraces him. At first it is strange; Aang knows that Mai is not a big believer in physical affection—or affection of any sort, really. But then Aang remembers that she has a little brother named Tom Tom, and that she once sacrificed his safety for political gain. 

Aang wonders if she ever regrets her actions. 

The way she’s looked out for Aang all day—protecting him from harm and watching his back—makes Aang wonder if she’s really seeing _him_ or if she’s seeing Tom Tom. The hug doesn’t last long.

“This has to stop.” Aang announces to Mai and Kai Kozu.

“And I have a plan to stop it!” Kai Kozu snaps. “I was about to tell you when you jumped into a fire!”

“But the blasting jelly—”

“My people moved the blasting jelly in plenty of time. You see the power of the people united in action? They threw it into the reservoir. All except for one box.”

“Why only one box?”

Kai Kozu smiles a clever, self-congratulating smile. It reminds Aang a little of Sokka. “Do you know what happens when you eat blasting jelly? Or if you put it on your skin?”

“You’d probably throw up and you’d get terrible boils all over wherever it touched. It sounds like it would just make everything worse.”

“Except, Aang, that those are the _exact_ symptoms of Si Wong Fever—the deadliest illness ever recorded in Earth Kingdom history. What do you think would happen if someone with Si Wong Fever is discovered in Omashu?”

All around Aang, the screams intensify. People are turning and fleeing down the mountain and out of the city. Kai Kozu’s man Huan stumbles after them, dragging his twisted leg behind. Aang can see that he’s covered in boils. Saliva hangs from his mouth and down his beard in long cords. He gives Kai Kozu a smile and two big thumbs up as he passes.

Within an hour, the city is empty, and, with help from Kai Kozu, Aang is finally able to supress the fires. As the sun rises, he looks over the charred rubble of the city, sick to his stomach. He’s gone two days now without sleep, and his thoughts are dark and unfriendly. Kai Kozu stands next to him. He, too, seems tired, but he is resolute, leaning into the cold wind whipping around them. 

“Thanks for saving my life,” Aang says, eyes averted.

“I hope I never have to do it again.” Kai Kozu laughs. Then his grey eyes grow serious again, and he studies the Avatar. “So, what comes next?

Frustration rises once again in Aang’s chest. Why does everyone keep asking him that? _How am I supposed to know what comes next!_ Suddenly, he doesn’t want the responsibility. He doesn’t want to stay here, ankle deep the broken city. _I did my job. I stopped the fighting. Now it’s someone else’s turn._

“Kai Kozu,” he says, “How would you like to take over?”

Kai Kozu’s expression doesn’t change. He continues to gaze seriously out at the rising sun. “You know this won’t change my mission, right? I’ll still fight for freedom for the entire Earth Kingdom, not just this city.” Aang hesitates, wondering if he should rethink the offer.

More than once, Kai Kozu had surprised him with his reasonable good-sense. He has proven to be dependable in a crisis. He’s even saved Aang’s life. 

Aang has never had to think much about nature of good and evil. As the Avatar, he felt that he could instinctively recognize what was good and what wasn’t. Katara, for instance was good. Fire Lord Ozai was bad. But which was Kai Kozu? And could he trust him? Zuko had done terrible things too, before becoming Fire Lord, but he had proven himself worthy of trust, respect, even friendship. Honestly, Aang doesn’t see much of a difference between Kai Kozu and Zuko. _Still…_

“I have two conditions,” he says, at last. “First, you can’t kill anyone. No more exploding lanterns.”

Kai Kozu bows his head and chuckles. “Fine. And second?”

Aang thinks of Caihong, and bile rises again in his throat. Kai Kozu threatened the nobles’ lives for political reasons; now that he’s in charge, he shouldn’t need to resort to anything like that again. But Caihong betrayed a friend, and Caihong’s family betrayed the Air Nation, which was far, far worse. 

“I need you to keep Caihong somewhere for me. I saw Appa land a few minutes ago, so they should be back in the city. If they’re not, I need you to find them for me. I don’t have time to deal with them right now, but as a member of the Air Nation, they’re subject to Air Nation justice, and they’re my responsibility.”

Kai Kozu’s expression finally changes “Does that mean you’re not staying?” He asks, completely taken aback. 

Aang shakes his head. “There’s something important I need to take care of—someone I need to talk to—and it’s a long from here. I want to leave as soon as possible. But I trust that Omashu is in good hands.”

Kai Kozu reaches out, and the two clap hands. Their business concluded, Aang leaves him overlooking the city that is now under his control.

Aang finds Mai handing out blankets with some of Kai Kozu’s men. She’s back to her non-emotive self, and Aang imagines a hug from him now would be about as welcome as a hug from a cactus. He simply waves his goodbye.

“You’re leaving?” she asks, stunned. “Who’s going to put this place back together?”

“Kai Kozu agreed to take over,” he says brightly. Mai stares at him. 

Feeling uncomfortable, he searches for a new topic. “So, are you going back to the Fire Nation, now?”

“No, Aang.” Her voice is icy. “I still don’t know the names of the people who are after Zuko, and even if I did, I wouldn’t leave. Look around you. The people here need help. I can see that this is where I’m needed, even if you can’t.”

Aang ignores this jab. He understands why Mai is angry and confused by his sudden departure. But if she knew that he had a chance to restore the Air Nation, she wouldn’t try to stop him. He isn’t sure exactly why he doesn’t tell her, or even ask her to come along, but something holds him back. Since it seems like there’s nothing more to say between them, he takes hold of Appa’s reins and gives the command to fly.


	4. Chapter 4

In the end, the villagers take bets on what’s going to happen first. Will Hakoda lose all patience and send Sokka out hunting on the icefields for a week, just to get a break from the boy? Or will Sokka argue himself hoarse? As the equinox approaches and the village makes preparations, it’s anyone’s bet. Only Bato refuses to participate, spending more and more of his time by the harbor mending his fishing tackle—as far away from the impending celebrations as he can get without actually jumping in the water. This is where Sokka finally tracks him down. 

“I mean, it’s not like I can’t take care of myself, you know?”

Bato is barely listening, letting Sokka wear himself out.

“I took down a whole fleet of air ships, you’d think that would earn me some trust! But _nooooo..._ Katara and Zuko are probably planning their trip to Ba Sing Se already, and I’m _still_ here.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Bato asks. “Being here with your community?”

“No…” Sokka’s voice cracks and he looks sheepish. “Of course, it’s not, Bato. It’s just that I want to see Suki, and…you know…Ba Sing Se would be cool, and—”

“Sokka.” Bato is stern. “Stop lying to yourself. Just because a thing is unpleasant, it doesn’t mean it isn’t true. You don’t want to be here anymore than I do.”

Sokka heaves a great sigh, and his shoulders droop. “Alright then. The truth is it coming home hasn’t been exactly what I thought it would be... It’s fine as long as I’m keeping busy, but the second I stop, it’s like I remember that something is missing and I want to go and find it.”

“What is it that you’re missing?” Bato asks.

“I don’t know,” Sokka admits. “All I know is it isn’t _here_. People keep asking me questions like, ‘do I want to hand out sparklers at the festival?’ or ‘have I gotten all my gifts, yet?’ And I don’t know how to tell them that none of it _matters!_ ” 

Bato nods slowly, tying off his line. “Sounds like the same feeling I had when I was stranded in the Abby during the war.”

“Does it ever go away?” 

“It changed.” Bato’s voice is hard, not inviting further questions. 

After a minute, he looks over at Sokka and sees that the boy has entangled himself in one of his freshly repaired lines. It takes a few minutes to extract him from the web of hooks and waxed string. While Bato is working, an idea occurs to him, although he knows better than to share it with Sokka just yet. First, he’ll need to talk to Hakoda. If Hakoda agrees, Sokka will get what he wants, and Bato will get—well, Bato isn’t sure what he’ll get out of the arrangement, but he knows that if he stays in the Southern Water Tribe, he’ll be lost forever, trapped in the boreal chasm of his own mind.

* * *

Angry voices echo up the concealed staircase to Azula’s tower prison, distorted and amplified around the weird slanted walls.

“And I told you, didn’t I? I _told_ you she would get sick if you locked her away up here! And on chi blockers? In the Water Tribe we only use them to put down sick animals!”

“Well, what did you expect me to do, Katara? You didn’t want her on chi blockers, you didn’t want her restrained—you wanted her in her old room, for Agni’s sake! I have people in the palace I need to protect, _including you._ ” The door bursts open and Katara enters, perused by a harassed looking Zuko. “My father would have—"

She cuts him off with a high, mirthless laugh. “You’re not seriously using your father as some kind of _standard_ , are you?”

He lifts his palms, imploring her to understand. “There wasn’t another way.”

“Of course, there were other ways, Zuko.” Katara whirls around, and, for one irrational moment, Zuko is afraid that she is going to attack him. Instead, she reaches down and snatches the keys from off of his belt. She then sets to work on the labyrinthine system of bolts and latches. Zuko gulps. There’s something about standing face-to-face with Katara that makes it very difficult to fight with her. But now that her back is safely turned, he’s able to continue the argument. 

“Katara, if it were anyone else, I’d agree with you. But this is Azula, and she’s dangerous! You should know better than anyone!”

“I know what Azula is capable of, Zuko!” Katara’s voice is icy. He knows that she is thinking of the star shaped scar which expands out from the middle of his chest. 

“Then why are you fighting me on this?!”

“Because this—” Katara gestures around at the cell and the tower room, “All of this— It isn’t you! It might be what _Azula_ would do in your place, but it isn’t _you_.” Suddenly, all the anger goes out of Katara’s voice. She sighs. Her shoulders fall and she abandons her attempt on the locks. When she does finally speak, her voice is softer. “You know, I still think about that day—and the lightning— You may not realize this, but opening this cell isn’t exactly easy for me, either. I’m only doing it because I know it’s the right thing to do.”

Zuko doesn’t respond immediately. Frustrated, Katara returns to her work on the locks. “Here, let me,” he says, coming up behind her and turning the key in the lock. She turns to look at him and is somewhat alarmed to find his face mere inches from hers. “It just takes practice,” he says, moving on to the next key on the chain.

Katara wishes that Zuko had taken the keys on the opposite side. As it is, she’s trapped between him and the wall. She thinks about asking him to step back for a moment, so that she can move aside—this can’t be comfortable for him, either… But she also wants to see how the locks work. If Zuko won’t agree to move Azula, she’ll be visiting this cell a lot.

Standing so close, she notices that Zuko’s hair is beginning to grow back. A lock of it escapes his topknot and brushes past his shoulders. In their travels, Katara noticed that Zuko would often tug at his hair, as if that would make it grow back faster, in the traditional, princely fashion. He’s grown a few inches too... 

The sound of the key turning in the final lock interrupts Katara’s thoughts. Inside the cell, Azula is curled up on the floor in a nest of pillows and blankets. Katara crouches down next to her while Zuko takes a seat on the empty cot. At first Katara thinks Azula is asleep, but her eyes are open and rimmed with dark circles. She is deeply pale and cold to the touch—not a good sign for a firebender. Katara takes her pulse. Then she uses both hands to inspect her neck and throat. The princess is compliant and accepts Katara’s ministrations—also, a bad sign. 

Zuko watches, fascinated, as Katara moves through the Water Tribe techniques. Fire Nation healers always leaned heavily on acupuncture and leeches, and he finds he prefers Katara’s methods. He only hopes they are just as effective. 

At last Katara stands up, brushing off her tunic. “Well, she was very sick. It looks like she had fire throat, but her body has already fought off the worst of the infection.” _Those chi-blockers can’t have helped_ , she adds, mentally.

Zuko breathes a little sigh of relief. Katara decides that now is the time for one last push for Azula’s freedom. She wonders how many of Zuko’s subjects can argue with him like this without facing the consequences of opposing the Fire Lord. But then she remembers that it’s Zuko—so, all of them. 

“Look, I’m still a novice healer. You have no reason to trust me with your sister. I’m only here because none of your physicians will go near her. But you know I have the gift. I’ve been studying the scrolls. I think I can really help Azula, if you let me try.” Katara looks deep into Zuko’s eyes, hoping for a flicker of capitulation.

He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “I _do_ trust you Katara. Do whatever you think is best.”

“Really?” She asks, a little disoriented by such a sudden and complete change of heart.

“Yes, really.” He says grudgingly. “I think the only reason I got so angry was because part of me knew you were right the whole time. It’s going to be a nightmare explaining this to my advisors, though…” Katara beams at him, but he looks down at his feet, avoiding eye contact. “There is one more thing you should know,” he says. “If you’re going to stay here in the palace, I mean. I should have told you before you agreed to come, but Azula was sick, and I really wasn’t thinking, and I—”

“Just tell me Zuko. What’s the matter?”

His voice drops an octave, and he leans a little closer so that he’s speaking in her ear. “One of my advisors and a few magistrates are part of a group called the Sons of Azulon. I don’t know much but I’m guessing, based on the name, that I’m not their first choice for Fire Lord. I don’t want you to agree to stay here without knowing that it might be dangerous to live in the palace right now.”

A feeling of absolute fury rises in Katara’s chest. She can’t even _imagine_ the kind of person who would want to dethrone a fair and compassionate leader like Zuko after years of Ozai’s brutality. She squares her shoulders, more determined than ever to stay in the Fire Nation. Even if she can’t heal Azula, she is a master waterbender, and she _can_ protect Zuko. For better or for worse, she will take what comes.

* * *

Within days, Sokka and Bato are sailing the ice dodger north around the Patola Mountains. They don’t talk much, but Sokka can tell that Bato is happier than he’s been in months. Sokka is optimistic, too, although the sun is punishing and the pickled fish are running low. 

Once Hakoda heard Bato’s proposal, he was satisfied, for Bato’s sake as well as Sokka’s. The plan was simple; they would circumnavigate the Earth Kingdom and approach Ba Sing Se from the east, avoiding unrest on the mainland by keeping to the unincorporated islands to the south. It would take longer, but there would be fewer risks.

Neither traveler was eager to stay for the festival, but Hakoda insisted. They would need time to prepare properly for their journey, and besides, Kanna would be so disappointed if she had to celebrate without her grandchildren again this year.

So, Sokka lit sparklers and ate his slice of destiny bread without complaint. Coerced by his grandmother, he even joined the circle dance with a young woman from a neighboring village. He thought about Suki the whole time, and moved away quickly when the music stopped.

As the sun rose above the horizon in the east, villagers took out bells and horns, knocking pans and shouting at the top of their voices to scare off the spirits of darkness that had lingered since the fall. Bato tried to escape the noise out on the ice floes. The banging and shouts only reminded him of Fire Navy cannons and his fellow inmates at Kaa Garr. When it was all mercifully over, Sokka and Bato were more than happy leave.

* * *

Katara looks out from high up in the north wing of the palace—reserved especially for the royal family and their guests. She can see across acres and acres of bleak concrete pavement leading up to the palace gates and, behind them, jagged volcano walls rising in the distance. It isn’t a particularly comforting sight.

She removes the last acupuncture needle from Azula’s wrist and places it on a gauze pad, which she hands to Zuko. “These need to be sterilized in a white-hot flame for twenty minutes, before they can be used again.”

Zuko puts a hand up to the bundle. “Do you want me to just—?” A flame appears in his palm.

“Sorry Zuko, but you’re not hot enough.” He raises his eyebrows and shoots her a sidelong glance. She rolls her eyes. “Come on, you know what I meant.”

He smiles a little, but Azula gives him such a withering look that he stops immediately. Katara thinks this is a very promising sign for her recovery.

By the time Azula is asleep in her bed, with the doors of her room locked and guarded, Katara is exhausted. Noticing her expression, Zuko takes the medicine bag from her hand and leads her down the hall. It’s hard to tell with Zuko, but he seems excited. The corners of his mouth keep twitching up, like he’s trying not to smile. The whole hallway smells like fresh paint, which makes Katara feel dizzy. When they arrive at what Katara assumes will be her room here in the Fire Nation, Zuko throws open the door for her, and she steps inside. Her eyes open wide.

The room is in the style of the Fire Nation—a wooden chest for clothes, a low-slung writing table, and an imposing four poster bed. But the details are all Water Tribe. The walls are covered with bright blue paper depicting life in the poles. The furniture handles are all gleaming mother of pearl. The bed is strewn with gigantic, fluffy pelts that could only have come from the south pole.

“What do you think?” Zuko asks, studying her face. “Is it too much? I had one made up for the Earth Kingdom and the Air Nation, too. I don’t want you to think I’m using your culture. I just want my guests to feel comfortable here. I know the Fire Nation royal palace probably isn’t anybody’s favorite place…” He winces, thinking about the terrible stain of Ozai’s legacy. 

“You’re a lot like your uncle, you know that?” 

Katara watches Zuko’s guarded features break into a genuine smile. “Thanks,” he says, running his fingers along the outside edge of the doorframe. “You know I was hoping you or Sokka would be the first ones stay here.”

“You’re lucky it’s me,” she says. “Sokka would already be jumping on the bed.” 

Zuko lets out a single bark-like laugh, and Katara grins with pride—it’s not easy making Zuko laugh…

“How is Sokka?” he asks, eagerly. And Aang?”

“Sokka’s fine. He’s angry because he can’t go to Ba Sing Se without Appa…” Anticipating Zuko’s next question, Katara continues. “Aang left for Omashu about a week ago. He got a letter from Bumi saying that the city was unstable.” 

“Katara,” Zuko says, suddenly serious again. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but Bumi is dead.”

“Oh,” is all she can manage. Katara is more shocked than saddened by the news. She can’t honestly say that she _liked_ Bumi all that much. The memory of the creeping crystal rising once again to the forefront of her mind. Still, he had been an important ally in the war… 

“What happened?”

“I don’t know... The Fire Nation has…informants…in Omashu, but I haven’t heard from them in days.” His hesitation before the word ‘informants’ makes Katara wonder if he is uncomfortable having spies in the Earth Kingdom. Zuko always did prefer fair-play and transparency, even at his own expense.

“But you have suspicions.”

He nods. “To tell you the truth, I’m actually glad Sokka isn’t going to Ba Sing Se.”

“Why is that? It’s not unstable, is it?”

“No. At least nobody seems to think so. Still, I’m worried…”

“Oh no! Zuko! What about Toph and Suki? What about your Uncle? He’s still in the city, isn’t he?”

Zuko nods. “I wrote to them. I invited them all here for a few weeks, but Toph and Suki are out in the countryside somewhere.”

“And your Uncle?”

Zuko blushes scarlet. “Uncle has a lady friend in the city and doesn’t want to leave. He’s acting like a love-sick teenager.” 

Katara watches as Zuko begins to pace the room. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?

“I know it’s stupid. But I can’t shake the feeling that Ba Sing Se isn’t as safe as everyone seems to think it is. I can’t explain it, but I think it’s going to be really bad, Katara.”

Katara leans heavily against the frame of the giant four-poster bed, saying a silent prayer for Toph, Suki, and Iroh, and thanking every spirit she can name for her father’s stubbornness. At least she knows Sokka is safe in the Southern Water Tribe—far, far away from the Earth Kingdom capital.

* * *

Aang looks everywhere for Guru Pathik, but the Eastern Air Temple is abandoned. Alarmed, he decides to fly low over the cloud forests around it. It’s barely spring and already the air is hot and sticky, and droplets condense on his face and down his back as he travels.

The people who lived in the cloud forest—Caihong’s ancestors—built incredible cities in the trees. Even in their current state of decay, Aang can appreciate beauty of the structures built around massive trunks, branches manipulated into walkways and staircases, and vines extending like webs across the whole system. By comparison, Jet’s hideout looks like a blanket fort.

Appa settles on a platform that takes his weight easily. Aang wonders if it was built with a sky bison in mind. Using a vine, he lowers himself onto a walkway wider than any in Omashu.

There’s something about this particular spot that draws Aang to explore further. The other places they stopped were abandoned; he could feel it. And although this place _looks_ no different, it somehow _feels_ just slightly more alive.

Then, a noise like a scream, cuts over the jungle cacophony. Aang runs. The noise is above him somewhere, and he follows Momo up vines and branches until they are high in the air. There, balanced on the spindly branches just under the canopy, is a painted shack, with smoke is rising from a little tin chimney. Someone is home.

Aang knocks but there is no answer. He can hear the noise inside. He hesitates for a minute before trying the latch. The door swings open with a creak. Inside the air is dark and smelly, but Aang can see the clear outline of Guru Pathik, lying prostrate on a small platform bed. At first, he thinks the man is dead, but then he blinks and points a gnarled brown index finger to a little stovetop. 

“Please, will you get that kettle? It’s making an awful racket.”

Aang removes the kettle from the heat, and pours the water into the two teacups beside it. Guru Pathik tries and fails to lift the tea to his lips, so Aang helps him, gently raising the old man from his bed. He is shivering and sweating, clearly sick with fever. Aang prays that the tea will revive him, at least enough to tell him what he needs to know.

Within minutes, Guru Pathik has fallen back into his meditative state, eyes wide and far away. He begins to shake violently, as if buffeted by high winds. Aang does his best to comfort the old man, airing out the tiny shack, washing the man’s sweat-soaked bed linens, and steaming some of the wild eucalyptus that Momo discovered on the forest floor. Even so, it’s three days before Guru Pathik recognizes him again. The minute he does, Aang takes his chance.

“I need to ask you about spiritbending, Guru Pathik.”

The old man closes his eyes; not in pain but in revulsion. “It’s not a pleasant topic. Why do you wish to discuss such disagreeable things with a dying man?”

“Because I think I _am_ a spiritbender, Guru.” 

Guru Pathik sits up a little in his bed as Aang explains. 

"I didn’t want to kill the Fire Lord, but I had to face him to end the war. The day before the fight, a lion turtle appeared to me and showed me how to do it—how to take Ozai’s bending, I mean. Ever since then, I’ve been different—I’ve been _angry_. And I don’t know what to do.”

The old man blinks. “Those damned lion turtles. They were always taking advantage of fools in the old stories.”

“Hey!” 

Guru Pathik sighs. “I suppose I have no choice but to tell you the legend of the spiritbenders, then. Be warned it is a long tale…”

“There are many stories about how the Avatar came to be. Who knows which of them are true? Possibly all of them. In some versions, the lion turtles gave their bending freely to all the human race. All kinds of benders were scattered all over the world. Perhaps the lion turtles thought they could work together and share their gifts. 

“But as you and I both know, that is not human nature. Some grew jealous and hungry for power. They discovered the ways of spiritbending. Soon, people were stealing each other’s bending left and right. It was chaos. Especially because in taking a person’s bending you are also taking part of their soul. 

“This led to the four nations, where men and women jealously guarded their elemental powers. There were terrible wars. Many lives were lost. These were dark, dark times.

“Then, one day, someone blessed by the spirits—or perhaps they were a spirit themselves—devised a mad plan. They spent years traveling across the four nations, stealing bending as they went. This is the reason that some people, like me, have no bending abilities. They were taken away by this person—the first Avatar.

“The Avatar became even more powerful than the great kings and queens. They had taken on the spirit of so many people that they could now act as the consciousness of all four nations. Which brings us to the nature of good and evil. Is the Avatar good because the first Avatar only took the bending of good people? Is that why there is evil left in the world? Because the Avatar refused to take it? That, I do not know. 

“I think if this story is true, then the first Avatar wanted the power to end the war and happily the souls they stole from created a balance within them that has lasted through the ages, bridging the gap between the four nations.”

Aang shakes his head. “So, you’re saying that my power comes from spiritbending? That the first Avatar stole the spirit and bending of many different people?”

“That is one explanation, yes. Although I think there is probably more to it than that. There always is.”

“But why did it stop? Why are there no more spiritbenders?”

“If I had to guess, I would say that the first Avatar stole the ability from the people who had it, then destroyed all the records they could find. There were some books left in the Eastern Air Temple, but they were taken away by the Fire Nation long ago.”

“Guru Pathik,” Aang says, excited by everything he’s learned. “If I really am a spiritbender, it means I can bring back the Air Nation, can’t I?”

The old man drops his teacup, and it rolls away on the floor. “Don’t even think about it. I can’t imagine anything more dangerous. If you start messing around with spiritbending, you may throw the whole world out of balance and back into darkness.”

“But what if I—”

“No! The risk is too great! Aang, you never learned to let go of things you cannot possibly possess. _Let go_ of this idea in your head about what the world _was_ and focus on what _is_. You cannot bring back what is past. You do not control life and death!”

“Then you didn’t love the Air Nation like I did! You don’t know how it feels to lose your entire culture!”

“Look around you Aang. My people died out with the Air Nation a hundred years ago. There are only a few of us left. I would give everything I have to see my world restored. But I am telling you that I would not resort to spiritbending. Is there is a chance you are successful and bring back the airbenders? Yes. But you risk destroying more cultures and passing on your pain a hundred times over!”

Aang’s thoughts are reeling. _There is a chance_. He reaches out and puts one hand on the old man’s head and another on his chest-- the spiritbending position he used against Ozai. He concentrates with all his might, but cannot pass on Ozai’s firebending to Guru Pathik. As far as he can tell, he’s not even glowing.

The old man eyes him with contempt. “It’s not going to work, and I am certainly not going to tell you how to do it.”

Aang releases him. “I don’t need you to tell me. You said the Fire Nation stole all the books on spiritbending? All I have to do is ask Zuko. It won’t matter that you refused to help me. All I lose is time.”

With that Guru Pathik shuts his eyes, exhausted and heartbroken. There’s nothing more he can do. Aang opens the door to leave, then pauses, looking over his shoulder at the old man. “I’m going to bring the Air Nation back, Guru Pathik. I’m going to bring them all back as strong as before.”

And with that he’s gone. Four days later, Guru Pathik dies alone in his shack, muttering prayers to all the spirits of heaven and earth. By this time, Aang is halfway to the Fire Nation Capital, his heart soaring with hope for the future.


	5. Chapter 5

Aang touches down in the courtyard of the Fire Nation Royal Palace in the middle of a squall. The rainy season has officially begun and the vibrancy of the capital is dulled to gloomy grey and brown. Despite the weather, attendants are sent out to greet him, abandoning ceremony and running through the torrential rain. He’s glad to see they don’t try to offer him a palanquin, just a simple oil-paper umbrella. A handler takes Appa by the reins and leads him away to an enclosure built specially for him. 

Once inside the cool, dark entrance hall of the royal palace, the sound of the rain fades, landing distantly on an impossibly high roof.

“Forgive me sir.” One of the attendants bows low. “Do you wish to see the Fire Lord or Master Katara?”

“Katara is here?” Aang’s voice rings through the empty hall. The attendant bows lower. Aang is surprised. He thought he would have more time to plan what he would say to her after their fight in the Southern Water Tribe.

Still, he isn’t worried. Katara gets mad a lot, but she always forgives him. She forgave him when he intercepted the message from her father. She forgave him after he burned her hands. He thought he would need to apologize for leaving the night before their final battle with Ozai, but she never brought it up afterwards.

Aang thinks Katara’s temper is quite possibly her only flaw, but her rages never last long—not where he’s concerned, anyway. A small part of him hopes she’s already forgotten about it, but he knows it’s unlikely. It was a pretty big fight. He thinks he’ll have to bend a knee this time, but at least it will all be over quickly. _Then,_ he thinks _maybe we can explore the capital together!_

But first things first. “I’d like to see the Fire Lord, please,” he says. The attendant straightens up and gestures for the him to follow.

They pass through a claustrophobic antechamber and into a darkened throne room, then turn left up a concealed staircase, which folds in on itself in such a tight square pattern that it makes Aang dizzy. Finally, they arrive at a simple wooden door.

“Come in!” Zuko calls.

Inside, Aang is surprised to see that the Fire Nation is run from a nondescript office. Simple brown bookcases line one long wall, and rain continues to pound the windows on the other. A plush carpet and a few high-backed leather armchairs are the only intimations of wealth or power. Zuko glances up from a plain writing desk, almost identical the one he saw Kai Kozu using in Omashu. 

“Aang! It’s good to see you!”

“It’s great to see you, too, Zuko. I—”

But he’s interrupted by Katara, who rises from one of the high-backed chairs in the middle of the room. Aang blinks. The attendant flushes and backs away, visibly alarmed at the sight of her there in the office.

“My apologies Avatar Aang, I believed that Master Katara was attending to matters in the north wing of the palace.”

“No need to apologize Ada,” Katara flashes the woman a kind smile. “Our plans changed and we decided to have tea with the Fire Lord.”

The attendant, excuses herself with a quick bow, shutting the door behind her with a snap. Aang looks around, confused at her odd behavior. 

Katara looks different, somehow, Aang notices. He thinks it must be her clothing, or something new she’s done with her hair. He doesn’t quite meet her gaze, just in case it’s really a difference in the way she looks at him.

“I’ve missed you, Katara,” he says.

She acknowledges him with an impersonal bow of the head, and he immediately abandons the hope that she’s already forgiven him. It will take something special to get him out of trouble this time. _Maybe a romantic trip somewhere on Appa?_

Then he sees that the chair next to Katara is taken, as well, and suddenly the attendant’s strange behavior makes all the sense in the world.

“Hello, Avatar.” Azula doesn’t rise from her chair. Her voice is low and menacing as ever.

Aang looks from Katara to Zuko, startled. “Uh, you guys, what is Azula doing here?”

“ _Princess_ Azula?” She says, notching an eyebrow.

“Fine—whatever—Princess Azula. You guys, what is she doing here?”

“She’s having tea with her brother, Aang. Not that it’s any of your business.” Katara hisses.

“What do you mean ‘not my business’?” Aang asks, offended. “She tried to kill me! More than once!”

Azula giggles. “Don’t be stupid. I tried to kill all of you.”

“How is that better?”

“Well, it’s not like it was _personal._ Except for Zuko, of course.”

“Thanks, Azula.” Zuko says, not looking up from his writing.

Azula peers up at Aang, enjoying his discomfort. “Look,” she says, “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t want to be here either. Most days I just sit around drinking tea with these two idealistic fools and wonder where it all went wrong.” 

Katara crosses her arms. “Azula, when we went to the circus yesterday, you said it was the most fun you’d had in years.”

“Only because that one clown made all the kids cry…” Azula says wistfully.

Aang is certain that Azula is only playing along until she can find an opportunity to punish Katara and Zuko for her defeat on the day of the comet. She’ll wait for Katara to lower her guard, then her true nature will come out. Aang only hopes he will be there when the time comes to protect Katara.

Zuko shuts his papers away with a snap, coming around his desk and clasping Aang on the shoulder. “We were just about to start tea,” he says, gesturing to a little kettle on a tray next to the coziest group of armchairs. “Please, join us.”

Aang looks from Katara to Azula and back again. He wants to get the spiritbending texts from Zuko as quickly as possible, but he doesn’t like the way either woman is looking at him. He tugs at his collar. 

“Sure thing!” he says, relived that none of the unease he is feeling has crept into his voice. He plops down in an armchair next to Katara and tries to make himself comfortable on the soft leather. 

Zuko pours the tea, a blend of lavender and honeybush that comes straight from Uncle Iroh in Ba Sing Se. Then he walks to the other end of the room and opens a door there. He says something in a low voice to someone on the other side, and when he returns, he’s followed by an overtaxed-looking young man, who Zuko introduces as his secretary, Aiko. Once everyone is holding a hot cup, Zuko turns to Aang.

“It’s not that I’m not glad to see you, but shouldn’t you be in the Earth Kingdom?” 

Aang flushes, not wanting to admit that he’s only come to the Fire Nation for some hundred-year-old stolen scrolls. He could say he’s here to see Katara. It’s not true, but it sounds plausible. Unfortunately, Aang knows Katara well enough to know that she wouldn’t thank him for abandoning the Earth Kingdom just to see her. _What reason would she accept…?_

“I’m worried about you, Zuko. I ran into Mai when I was in the Earth Kingdom. She told me about…you know…the Sons. I wanted to stay for a few days and make sure you were okay. Maybe check up on a few leads closer to home.”

“What do you mean, ‘closer to home?’” Zuko asks.

“Just some names that Mai mentioned,” Aang invents wildly. “There are some dangerous people here in the Fire Nation, too.”

“Like me, for instance.” Azula takes a sip of her tea. Aang privately agrees. Azula is dangerous, and he’s struggling to understand how Zuko and Katara don’t see it…  
“Aiko, would you please escort my sister back to her room?” Zuko asks his secretary. “I think the three of us need a minute to talk privately.” Aiko looks like he has just been asked to swallow an entire tub of cabbage slugs. _Good,_ Aang thinks. _I’m not the only one here who realizes she’s still a maniac._

Azula rolls her eyes, but follows Aiko quietly out of the room. Once she is gone, Zuko leans in closer. “Now you can tell us the names.”

_The names. Right._

Aang could kick himself—of course Zuko would ask for the names! His mind scrambles trying to think of the most dangerous person in the Fire Nation—someone who would want Zuko eliminated—but the only people that come to mind are Azula and Ozai. And Mai wouldn’t send Aang back to the Fire Nation for either of them… “Uh, well it’s really just the one name, I guess.” He starts the sentence hoping something will come to him. He looks over at Katara, and it hits him…

“Hama. It’s Hama of the Southern Water Tribe.”

“Hama!” Katara snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I told Zuko about her first thing after his coronation. She’s been locked away for months! Right Zuko?”

Zuko shifts guiltily in his chair. “Well, not exactly.”

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly?’ Are you telling me she’s not in prison?”

Zuko looks incredulous. “I don’t believe this Katara! Two weeks ago, you were yelling at me to take Azula _out_ of prison!”

“It’s completely different! When you became Fire Lord, you destroyed the structure that gave Azula her power. And sure, she’s still a powerful bender, but without her title that’s _all_ she is. But Hama! Hamma’s bending will always give her the power to hurt innocent people!”

“Again, Katara, I agree with you,” Zuko says. “So, will you stop shouting and let me explain?” Katara flings herself back into her chair and Zuko continues. “Hama isn’t a normal case. I doubt that any prison in the four nations could hold her, because of her…unique abilities.” He glances sideways at Katara, who looks away quickly. She, too, is a bloodbender. 

“I tried to send her back to the Water Tribe, but the Southern Tribes refused outright when I explained the situation. Arnook wouldn’t take her, either. Besides, she’s more Fire Nation than Water Tribe now, anyway. We can’t rely on chi blockers or acupuncture the way we did with Azula, either, because there’s always the risk that she’s controlling the guards. So, I compromised. I set her up at Kaa Garr as my father’s personal guard. She gets to make his life miserable, and there’s no way he’ll ever escape from her.”

“Zuko, that’s terrible.” Katara has both hands clapped over her mouth.

“Yes, it is.” He holds her gaze. “But do you have an alternative?”

Katara shakes her head, stricken. 

“What if I took her bending?” Aang offers, just realizing the possibility. “Then she wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone ever again!”

“Of course! Aang, why didn’t I think of that before?” Katara leans over and clutches his arm excitedly. Aang’s heart does cartwheels in his chest. 

Zuko considers him warily. “Are you sure it’s a good idea Aang? I’m not sure about spiritbending. It might be dangerous. What if you get hurt?”

“Zuko, you sound like me.” Katara says, annoyed. “Stop worrying. Aang is the Avatar. It’s probably just part of his special Avatar powers, or whatever.”

Aang takes this opportunity to let out a long, gloomy sigh, and Katara and Zuko turn to face him. “I forgot; I can’t do it anymore. The lion turtle gave me a one-time pass, but in order to spiritbend again, I would need to actually study the technique—you know, learn how to do it.” Aang has his fingers crossed behind his back. He hates lying to his friends, but this is easier than he could have hoped.

“Can’t you study the technique then?” Katara asks.

“Well, the Air Nation used to have lots of books on spiritbending, but they’re all gone now.” Aang wonders if the disappointed look on his face is convincing enough. He stares deep into the dregs of his teacup hoping it will add to the overall effect.

“Well, what happened to them?” Katara demands, her temper rising.

“I guess they must’ve been taken by the Fire Nation, but it’s been a hundred years. What are the chances those scrolls are still around?”

“Oh, they’re around,” Zuko says dryly. “Everything my ancestors stole from the other nations is her in the capital somewhere.” He leans forward in his chair, closer to Aang. “Look, I don’t think I agree with this spiritbending plan, but as far as I’m concerned, anything the Fire Nation took from the Air Temples belongs to you.”

Aang flashes Zuko what he hopes is a winning smile. “Gee, thanks! And, uh, where do you think those scrolls might be?”

Zuko puts the tips of his fingers together, thinking for a minute. “My guess is that they’re somewhere in the national archives. I can try to track them down. But I’m asking you as a friend—don’t try anything with spiritbending until you’ve done all the research. I know you like to jump into things, but with new bending forms it’s always safer to wait and get it right.” 

“It’s an Avatar guarantee,” Aang says lifting his right hand in a three-finger salute. “But, uh, how long do you think it will it take to get the books?”

“Give me three days,” Zuko says.

 _Three days._ Aang’s impatience threatens to get the better of him again, but then he glances over at Katara. She seems to be in a much better mood now that he’s come up with a plan to take care of Hama. He wonders if the Fire Nation has anything like penguin sledding… “Three days is fine!” he says, at last. “And while I’m here, Katara can show me around the capital!” 

Katara shifts a little in her chair and begins tugging at locks of her hair—the way she always does when she is flustered. Aang takes this to be a very, very good sign.

* * *

It’s too rainy to explore the city, so Katara shows Aang around the palace, instead. Aang is amazed to discover that, in addition to the throne room, the towering central wing holds the palace kitchens, stables, and grain reserves. The south wing is more spectacular, still, with a private gallery, greenhouse, observatory, and the only library Aang has ever seen that even comes close to rivaling Wan Shi Tong. Katara is polite but distant as she points out meaningful pieces. He does make her laugh a few times, imagining the way various artifacts might have been used. After a few hours, they make their way back to the north wing. Zuko is in meetings all afternoon, so it is Katara who shows Aang to his apartments.

Unlike the Water Tribe room, Aang’s room has been physically altered to accommodate the design. Wide arching windows have replaced sliding screens. The ceiling has been raised to create a spacious, airy atmosphere. Bright ceramic tiles cover every inch of the walls. Katara studies Aang closely for his reaction. 

What startles him most about the room is its accuracy. Someone clearly spent weeks pouring over history books, painstakingly recreating an Air Nation prayer room, which the monks only used for spiritual matters. The cot in the corner and the lavish Pai Sho table are so completely out of place, it makes Aang want to scream. It’s like finding a toilet in the middle of a perfectly good kitchen.

Aang hates the room, but he doesn’t want to raise his objections in front of Katara. After all, defending his culture was what got him in trouble with her in the first place. He plasters a grin on his face, and pretends to love it. Although, he’s not sure that Katara is buying the act. She gives him a strange look halfway between concern and pity before wishing him a good night. The door snaps shut behind her with a click.

Zuko is better than his promise, and crate loads Air Nation artefacts begin arriving the very next day. Aang sorts through them by candlelight, trying to ignore the luridly tiled walls of his room and the depressing pounding of rain against the windows. The humidity of the Fire Nation has rotted whole boxes of scrolls, so his progress is slow. Eventually life settles into a pattern: he spends his mornings and afternoons sorting material by subject, setting aside anything that may bring him closer to understanding spiritbending. In the evening, he has dinner with Katara, Azula, and Zuko. Katara is still a little distant during meals, but Aang thinks he’s wearing her down. He’s even gotten her to try small bites of his vegetarian dishes. 

He spends the evenings reading by candlelight. Some texts are completely impenetrable—their meanings lost to time, others are cultural—plays and works of fiction that Aang puts aside in search of greater treasures. Finally, after weeks of searching, Aang notices a book at the bottom of a particularly dense stack. He picks it up and blows away a thick layer of dust. The title on the spine is printed in spidery gold script: _The Canon of Kinder Spirits._

The Canon is written in the old high style of the Air Nomads. It takes Aang days to work through, but he persists. At last, he finds exactly what he is looking for: explanations, diagrams, everything he needs to understand the ancient art of spiritbending. He reads and rereads the text, pouring over it until he has it committed to memory. On his third pass, he notices that a page is missing. Frowning, he returns to the crates and searches each one, only to come up emptyhanded. Discouraged, he decides to go back and search each artifact in the crate where he found the Canon. Eventually, he finds the missing page tucked away in a scroll on the many applications of sky bison manure. _The Ritual to Create Bending_ is written across the top in the same spidery gold script. Aang’s eyes go wide as he realizes what he’s holding. It’s the key to restoring his entire culture. He reads through it quickly once, then again slowly.

There are two important steps to the ritual, and both will need to be timed perfectly. A plan begins to form in his mind. One that will restore the Air Nation _and_ rid the world of dangerous benders like Hama and Azula, all without spilling a drop of blood.

Aang looks up from his work to see that the rain has stopped. He pauses to watch the sun rise above the jagged mountains in the east. He searches his soul for the old familiar sense of wonder, but again, it escapes him.

* * *

The sun shines all day, so—as Fire Nation custom dictates—there will be fireworks all night. Zuko orders a truly massive display for the palace. “This way people don’t try to make their own,” he explains. “Still, every year at least one person sets their house on fire.”

With everything going according to plan, Aang decides to concentrate on Katara. Maybe an evening of fireworks is just what they need to melt the frostiness between them. He finds her after dinner in the palace gardens, sitting on a bench beneath a crooked mountain pine. 

“Listen Katara,” he says. “I know things have been weird between us, and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about what happened in the south pole.”

“Thanks, Aang,” she says, giving him a weak smile.

“So…does that mean we can put this behind us? I mean, I really missed you after I left, and I wouldn’t want one fight to ruin our connection.”

“I don’t know, Aang. You know that I like you, but I don’t think I want to rush into anything. I’m still just a little bit confused.”

“Who’s rushing?” His tone is bright, excited. “I just thought we could watch the fireworks together. We should be able to get a really good view over there by the fountain.” He offers her his hand. Reluctantly she takes it, and he marches her over to the prettiest spot in the garden. 

“I think this is the closest we can get without risking another one of Zuko’s fire safety lectures,” Aang says, and Katara snickers. Aang’s heart beats double time, sitting so close to her in the moonlight.

They stay that way for a minute, then Aang reaches for her hand. She pulls back, wary. _My apology wasn’t enough,_ he thinks, sourly. _She’s still upset with me._

“What’s the matter?” he whispers, in her ear.

“I’m just not sure about this, Aang.”

“Then let me be sure for both of us, Katara. We _belong_ together. Remember in the Southern Air Temple when you told me that we would be a family? Remember when you pulled me back after the sandbenders took Appa? _You_ kissed _me_ after Sozin’s Comet, remember?” His voice is plaintive and heartrending.

And she _does_ remember those things. She remembers feeling so keenly for the boy who had just lost his whole world. She remembers taking his wrist and hugging him to her, so that he would not take revenge on the sandbenders. She also remembers her faith in the Avatar—how she believed that he alone could bring balance to the world. She feels a twinge of guilt for doubting him. 

Seeing the hesitation in her eyes, he moves in closer and kisses her gently. He laces his fingers into hers, which reminds her of all the promises she’s made to him. She puckers her lips a little in a gesture of good-faith. _Maybe that’s what love is?_ she thinks, remembering her Gran Gran—even now washing Pakku’s dirty socks because an eighty-year allegiance finally caught up to her. _Why did Gran Gran marry that guy, anyway, after she tried so hard to escape him?_

But Aang is not Pakku. Katara _likes_ Aang. She likes his unbeatable optimism and the way he can make a game out of any situation. She admires his idealism and the way he holds himself and others to a higher standard. _So why fight it?_

“I have something for you,” he says, shifting a little to pull it out of his pocket. “I didn’t have time to wrap it; sorry.” She holds out her hand and into it he slips a heavy wooden circle that feels like a brick on a beaded chain. 

“What is this?” She asks, fingering the Air Nation carvings and tassels.

“It’s a necklace! I found it in the boxes when I was looking for stuff on spiritbending. It’s very meaningful. It marks you as an honorary member of the Air Nation.”

“Oh…Aang. I don’t know what to say.” And it’s true. Katara is at a complete loss for words. Aang smiles, apparently under the impression that the necklace was a tremendous success. He reaches behind her neck to help her put it on. It rests on her chest as heavy as Momo, curled up in her lap.

Fortunately, at that moment the firework display begins, and they sit in silence, watching the fireworks block out the stars with their superior colors before fizzing and popping into blackness. Aang smiles. 

“See, Katara, it’s like a sign. The _universe_ wants us together. You can’t doubt the will of the universe! Anything else—anything besides you and me—somehow just seems doomed to fail.” He looks at her with such bright conviction, that her heart splinters. She’s only one girl. How can she fight the will of the universe? And does she even want to? It all sounds so exhausting. She inches her hand over to his and squeezes it tightly, wishing that the universe was not so indifferent—wondering what it would look like if the world had been made by kinder spirits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are wondering what the whole "will of the universe" thing is referencing, check out this link to this video made by the show's creators: (https://www.google.com/amp/s/bryankonietzko.tumblr.com/post/23328242928/an-oldie-but-goodie-we-made-this-silly-little/amp) It came out during Comicon years ago, and reactions were...let's say _mixed._


	6. Chapter 6

Toph frowns as the ferry picks up speed. She wonders if Ba Sing Se is already on the horizon. She looks directly out at where it should be, as if she can really see it. 

After Zuko’s coronation, the whole gang spent a week together in Ba Sing Se. They had all been making plans for their lives post-war: where they would go, the people they couldn’t wait to see… But Toph didn’t have any plans. She wasn’t going to go back to her parents—that was for sure. She entertained the idea of traveling around for a while, but it seemed kind of lonely. 

In the end, practicality won out, and Toph decided to take up residence in the Bei Fong apartment in Ba Sing Se. It wasn’t far from Iroh’s tea shop or the Kyoshi warriors’ new headquarters, and—best of all— under Earth Kingdom law, she could live there legally without a parent, as long as she had the written consent of the king. Her parents agreed—mostly because it meant that she would be spending plenty of time in the finest society the Earth Kingdom had to offer. Toph found that living in the city wasn’t so bad after all.

But visiting her parents had been a mistake…

The worst part had been reconnecting with her mother. Her father was still resolutely closed-off and traditional, but her mother had seemed open to hearing what Toph had to say. They went for long walks every day, and picked flowers together. One day, her mother sat her down in the garden and confided to her: “I was just like you when I was young, you know. I had a head full of ideas like yours… You’ll understand all this more when you’re older, once you’ve settled down and had a family of your own, you’ll see the realities of the world a little clearer.”

“What exactly do you think I’m not understanding?” Toph asked, bristling.

“Well…” Her mother hesitated a little, perhaps sensing that she was on dangerous ground. “Just that the world is…the way it is for a reason. We all have a part to play. You’ll have a role to play one day too, Toph.”

“I already have a role to play, mom. I helped take down the _Fire Lord!_ I ended a hundred-year war!” Toph knew that there was no point raising her voice to her mother, but she couldn’t help it. It was better to yell than to cry.

“Well, yes. And your father and I are just…stupefied…at everything you’ve done. All I am saying is that people change as they get older. You might change, too. You might find a nice young man in the capital, who you like! And you might decide that you want to wear a pretty dress or run a brush through your hair to catch his eye. One day you might decide to come back and live in the country… All of this will belong to your husband someday,” she said, gesturing to the palatial estate behind them.

Eventually Toph decided to agree on the fact that ‘people change,” just to end the argument. She knew then that there would be no convincing her mother that she could have a life beyond the conventions of Earth Kingdom society. She packed her bags the very next day. 

Resting her hands on the rough wood of the ship’s gunwale, Toph breathes in the salty spray. Her mind wanders to Sokka, Katara, and Aang. She wishes they had been there with her—particularly Sokka. Toph genuinely believes that Sokka could sell flint to a firebender. If anyone could get her parents to see her perspective, it would be Sokka… But Toph let’s that thought go. Much like raising her voice to her mother, it’s pointless and it only hurts her.

Behind her, the crowd starts to murmur, then a scream rends her thoughts. Toph can’t hear exactly what the people are saying to one another, but they sound afraid. She stifles the feeling panic that rises inside her. If something bad has happened to the ferry—well—she can’t swim… But as the passengers rush towards her spot on the railing, their voices become clearer. She realizes that what’s frightening them isn’t on the ship at all, but the city itself. There is fighting all along the great wall—soldiers against civilians in close quarters. 

The ground shifts beneath Toph’s feet, as the ferry changes course, heading back to Full Moon Bay. A collective gasp on the ship, as Toph registers the rotten stench of blasting jelly. The entire ship rocks in the water.

“They’re shooting at us! Look, they’re shooting at their own people!”

Toph’s tiny hands curl into fists. This is a ship full of civilians and holiday makers—not fighters. Her bending is useless on a wooden boat in the middle of the water, but if their attackers are shooting metal cannonballs… 

She senses the metal sphere just beginning to sink below the waves and tugs it back to the surface.

“All right, where are they? Somebody, point a finger!”

The whole crowd indicates a spot high up on the wall. Toph adjusts for the distance, brings her arm back, and sends the cannonball flying. She can tell by the reaction of the crowd that she’s missed.

“Too low.” One voice says.

“Wait!” says another. “Look! They have a bear up there!”

_Bosco_ , Toph thinks, remembering Earth King Kuei’s special pet.

“What’s happening? What are they doing to it?” She demands.  
“It’s awful! They’ve covered it in makeup and dressed it up like a noble. They’re making it walk on its hind legs with a spear. People are throwing things at it… Oh, that poor creature!”

Toph’s heart sinks. If Basco is being tormented on the railing, then King Kuei is probably somewhere much, much worse. Toph backs away from the railing and lashes out in fury. She thinks of the millions of people now trapped in Ba Sing Se taking trains between the three rings, strolling through the hanging gardens, meeting each other at tea houses…

Suddenly, a terrible thought occurs to her. 

_Iroh._ She realizes with an icy feeling in the pit of her stomach that he is in the city right now. She shuts her eyes, momentarily defeated. _If they did that to the bear, what are they going to do to the Fire Lord’s beloved uncle?_

* * *

Two days later, Katara hangs back after tea, hoping to talk to Zuko alone. She hovers behind one of the red leather armchairs, and tells Aang she’ll catch up with him later. He offers to take Azula back to her room—a gesture which Katara appreciates. Katara knows he doesn’t like the Fire Nation princess, and that his attention towards her these past few days is really more of a gesture for her. It’s much more romantic than the necklace, which Katara keeps in her pocket.

Before leaving, Aang gives Katara a peck on the cheek. His eyes are puffy and red-rimmed. He’s been out early every morning since the night of the fireworks display, and she worries that he’s been burning the candle at both ends. She puts an affectionate hand on his cheek. Usually, Azula would take this opportunity to make some remark at the couple’s expense, but today she’s barely able to roll her eyes. Her face is clammy and pale, and she doesn’t refuse Aang when he offers her his arm. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Katara rounds on Zuko. 

“Have you been giving Azula chi blockers again?” He looks stunned; clearly, this is the last thing he expected. 

“Of course not! I told you—I trust your judgment. Besides, she seemed so much better.” Katara notices his use of the past tense. 

“So, you _have_ noticed that she’s been slipping these past few days?”

“Well, yes.” Zuko says sheepishly. “But that happens right? Even the best healers can’t always predict—”

“This isn’t just a slip, Zuko! I think someone is drugging her again. It could be the Sons of Azulon.”

Zuko scoffs. “The Sons wouldn’t poison Azula. Remember, they think she should be the Fire Lord!”

“Then maybe you’re the target, and somehow they’re poisoning her on accident. Maybe they’re slipping chi blockers into her tea thinking that it’s your cup!”

Zuko doesn’t look convinced. Eventually, he sighs. “Look Katara, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’ve been getting reports from Kaa Garr. Apparently, that whole neighborhood has been hit hard with similar symptoms. The royal physicians think it’s just a weird flu. Maybe Azula caught it somehow.”

“Isn’t your father in Kaa Garr prison?”

“Yes,” Zuko says slowly. “But I don’t see how that—

“A mysterious illness that’s affecting both your sister and the prison where you’re keeping your father? That doesn’t sound suspicious to you, Zuko?”

“We have disease in that area all the time! It’s a public health nightmare!”

Zuko peers up at Katara from under his eyebrows, hoping that something in his argument convinced her to let the issue drop. Instead, her arms are crossed and her jaw is set firm. Zuko has learned that there’s no changing her mind when she’s like this. He’ll have to agree to whatever she says next, or face the consequences. 

“I want to see what’s happening in that prison, Zuko.”

He sighs. He could waste time arguing with her, pleading with her, or staring her down like a messenger hawk, but it won’t help. For one mad second he imagines trying to tickle her until she gives in, like he used to do to Azula when they disagreed as children. He shakes his head and sighs, pulling a stack of papers from a locked drawer of his desk. 

“This form will get you into the prison… This one acts as your identification… This one certifies you’ve been checked for lice—”

“Lice!”

“Yeah, lice. Don’t look so offended. I told you that place was a public health nightmare. Now, have you ever been incarcerated for a period, longer than forty-eight hours, in a Fire Nation penitentiary, prison, jail, or dungeon? Or in a Fire Navy brig for a period longer than a week?”

“Zuko! Are you serious?” 

“What?” He asks, laughing. “If you’re going to stay here in the Fire Nation, you need to appreciate our deep and abiding love of paperwork. You should see the stack you have to fill out if you want to get married.”

Katara takes a seat at the edge of his desk. “In the Southern Water Tribe all you need do is drink rice wine from the same cup…” she says, absently.

Zuko’s head snaps up, momentarily distracted from the stack of forms. “Wait a minute, you and I used to share a rice wine all the time. Does that mean we’re married?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that!” Katara laughs.

“Oh good, because Mai would _not_ have liked that.” Zuko signs the final page with a flourish. As soon she is sure the ink is dry, Katara puts her hand out impatiently for the thin stack. 

“Great! Can you tell Aang where I’ve gone?”

“Are you crazy?” Zuko sputters. “You’re just like your brother and Boiling Rock! I’m not letting you go to Kaa Garr alone! Just let me write a note to Aiko, to let him know where we are. Then we can head out. _Together._ ”

They move quietly, through the winding passages and out the side door, avoiding the attention of the servants and palace guards. Zuko has stripped down to his tunic, leaving his robe and headpiece behind in his office. His hair is pulled back in a small knot at the nape of his neck. He looks like an ordinary merchant’s son. It feels a little like the old days, again—at least to Katara. 

“I sort of missed this,” she confides. “You know, sneaking out on a mission.”

“Yeah, me too. I didn’t really appreciate how free I was in those days. Now it’s hard to out without being recognized...” His voice is wistful, and Katara looks at him out of the corner of her eye, deeply curious about something, but unsure whether or not she should ask.

“Alright, what is it?” He says, noticing the way she’s looking at him. 

“Oh, well, I was just wondering whether or not the Blue Spirit had been spotted in the Fire Nation?”

“Oh, Aang told you about that?” Zuko laughs. “No, the blue spirit is gone for good. He learned that he doesn’t need to hide his face to do the right thing anymore.” Katara considers Zuko in the late afternoon sunlight. She feels a warm glow in her chest, and realizes that what she’s feeling is admiration—for all that he’s been through and all that he’s become in spite of it. She feels lucky to have him for a friend.

They’re only a few steps away from the palace gates when they hear the first blast. Turning, they see fire from windows high up in the central tower. Then a second, louder blast expels fire in a cloud that’s twenty feet wide. After that, there’s silence.

“My office!” Zuko lurches forward, trying to run back to the palace, but Katara catches his arm and drags him behind one of the overlarge ornamental lion-dogs that guard the palace gate.

“Agni, Katara, let me go! There might be people in there! Aiko!”

“You could’ve been in there! Zuko. It’s the Sons of Azulon; they’re after you! Let me go back first and make sure it’s safe before you run right into a trap.”

“Absolutely not.” Zuko crosses his arms in a faultless imitation of Katara.

“Fine then,” she hisses. “If you insist on leaping into action, why don’t you go find your sister while I check your office.” He looks like he is about to argue, but she cuts him off. “You’re running into this like an otter-penguin in a tar pit. Think for a second! They’re after you, not me. And by going back in, trying to save everyone, you’re actually putting them in _more_ danger. So, for the love of Hei Bai— _don’t_ do it.”

He squares his jaw, and Katara can tell she’s won the argument.

“Fine, I see your point,” he says, a little peevishly. “I’m still going to get my sister, though.” 

“Fine, yes. Just be careful. I’ll meet you under the pine tree in the garden in an hour.” Katara turns to leave, but Zuko pulls her back. 

“Be safe in there,” he says, and she gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. “One hour, in the garden—I mean it. Be there or I’m coming in after you.” 

“Don’t worry about me, Zuko. I’ll be fine!” 

“I can’t help it,” he whispers. But Katara is already gone.

* * *

Toph isn’t exactly sure how she—a teenager—came to be in charge of the refugees at Full Moon Bay. She thinks the Bei Fong family name may have had something to do with it. It isn’t a big group, but they’re all middle-class citizens from the middle and upper rings of Ba Sing Se—which were shielded from the war for a hundred years—more or less useless in a life and death situation. 

Regardless, Toph manages to eke out a defense around the massive cave system.   
Each day she wakes up expecting an attack—Full Moon Bay is barely twenty-minutes from Ba Sing Se. When, none comes, Toph begins to wonder if the city had been taken after all. 

Then on the third day, Toph awakens to a harsh grating sound out on the rocks. She arrives at the beach to find Ty Lee, a Kyoshi Warrior from the Fire Nation, smiling proudly in front of the broken hull of a second Full Moon Bay ferry boat. She is busy helping a shaken looking family onto shore.  
“Whoopsie!” she says, offering a queasy looking passenger her hand. “I guess I don’t know how to drive a boat, after all. Sorry guys!” Toph pretends to look exasperated, but really, she is thrilled to see her. 

The next day, Toph is startled when a second Kyoshi warrior plops down next to her. It’s hard to recognize Suki through all the makeup and gunk all over her face—she’s clearly been on the road for some time. Her eyes are a little wild, and when she speaks her voice is low and urgent. “Listen Toph, I have some really bad news for you...” 

She keeps her story brief, reasoning that if Toph wants to hear more, she’ll ask when she’s ready. Suki knows that Toph was never really close to her parents, but it’s still hard news to hear. Suki hated her father, but she still grieved when he caught eel pox and died. 

“So, Kai Kozu’s conquered Omashu and the nobles, including my parents, have been…have been…” Tears come into to her eyes.

“Is there anything I can do?” Suki asks, knowing full well that there’s nothing she can do to fix this for Toph. The earthbender shakes her head, looking for an excuse to get away somewhere where Suki and the others can’t see her cry. 

“Can you go and find Ty Lee?” Toph asks. “She’s somewhere around here. She can get you some lunch…then both of you can meet me out on the beach. The three of us need to make a plan.”

Suki gives Toph a curious look. “What’s our next move?”

“We’re going to BUST everyone out of Ba Sing Se—that’s our move! And if we run into Kai Kozu—too bad for him.” Toph cracks her knuckles menacingly. “We’ll leave tomorrow at dawn.”

“For Iroh?” Suki asks.

“Yeah. For Iroh,” Toph admits. It’s been four days since the city fell, and his chances are getting worse by the hour. She may have failed her parents, but she wasn’t going to fail Iroh, too. Toph suddenly realizes she’s started to cry in front of Suki. She quickly wipes away the tears and turns to look out over the bay. “And I guess we can try to save King Kuei, too. You know—if we can swing it.”

“Why not?” Suki says, giving Toph a faint half smile, which fades as she, too, turns to look out over the bay. 

Toph doesn’t answer, but unexpectedly puts her arm around the other girl. In that moment, they’re not Toph the metalbender or Suki the Kyoshi warrior; they’re just two girls who have lost their families, watching their country disappear before their eyes.

* * *

Instead of going back through the side doors, Katara creeps around one of the many low walls that encircle the palace like the petals of a panda lily. She hops the fences easily, and curses under her breath. She never fully appreciated how exposed the palace was inside its protective walls. There is nothing she can do now, except run as fast as she can. If anyone is watching from the inside, she is a sitting turtle duck. 

She expects fire to pour down around her at any second. When she reaches the foundation of the south wing, she presses her back against it—hard—safe for a moment in its long shadow. Slowly her breathing returns to normal. The bricks on the wall dig painfully into her back. Looking up she realizes that, every few feet, a one of them pokes out of the wall in an ornate pattern. She jumps up and catches one of the jutting bricks in her right hand, then catches another with her foot. From there, it’s an easy climb to the top of the south wing. Crouching behind the upward slope of the roof, she is able to reach Zuko’s office, unseen. 

Everything is covered in a burned crust, but, mercifully, there is no fire. There’s nobody in the room, nor is there any sign of whatever it was that caused the blast. Katara opens the door onto the concealed staircase. It’s empty, but she can hear the sound of guards below. She opens the door to Aiko’s office and finds that it, too is unharmed. Aiko is nowhere to be seen. Katara sighs with relief. It’s very lucky the disaster was limited to just the one room; there are a hundred people living and working in the royal palace who may have been hurt, otherwise.

Trying to think like the would-be assassin, Katara exits back out the window and runs around the roof towards the busy servants’ quarters. She figures that whoever caused the explosion might try to escape disguised as a cook or an attendant. She jumps lightly onto the embellishments that run underneath the roof and spots Aang, perched just below the eaves of Azula’s bedroom window. She’s relived to see that he’s holding the princess, who appears to have fainted.

Katara reaches them at the same moment Appa does, landing heavily with the crunch of ceramic tiles underfoot. Katara wraps her arms around Aang. 

“Thank goodness you’re all right!” Aang jumps nearly three feet in the air, startled. Katara looks at him, nonplussed. She hasn’t seen him so jumpy since the night before the black sun invasion.

“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you! I was just worried. You saw what happened to Zuko’s office, didn’t you?”

“Katara!” Aang’s voice is funny, like he’s doing a bad impersonation of Sokka. “Didn’t see you there! Yes! I am helping Azula, who is in trouble from the explosion.”

“Right...” she says, uncertainly. “Listen Aang, I’m really glad you found Azula, but we need to find Zuko and get out of here. The Sons of Azulon are obviously making their move.”

“Or…” he says, “What if I take Azula now and come back for you and Zuko later?”

“What? No, Aang! Zuko is our friend and we need to make sure he’s safe before we go anywhere. I’m glad you want to help Azula, but she isn’t the one whose life is in danger. Zuko’s is.”

Aang looks impatiently at Katara. He’s just finished hauling the sleeping princess into Appa’s saddle. “No, I really thinks it’s best if I take her now. Zuko will be fine! He can take care of himself! He’s flinty, you know? He’s our flinty Mr. Fire Guy!”

Katara’s eyes narrow. “Aang, do you mind telling me why you’re acting so weird?”

In that moment, Aang rounds on her. “ _I’m_ not acting weird! _You’re_ the one acting weird! For weeks now I’ve been trying to connect with you, and you’ve been avoiding me like Momo avoids a bath.” At the sound of the word, Momo drops from Aang’s shoulder and scurries into hiding on Appa’s saddle. Katara watches him go, momentarily dumbstruck with the injustice of it all. 

“That’s not true, Aang! And even if it were, this is an emergency. We have to find Zuko before the Sons of Azulon do.”

“Zuko is fine, Katara! Nobody is after him right now. _I_ was the one who set his office on fire, and _I_ was the one who put it out again, two seconds later. Nobody was hurt.”

“What—” she says. “No, Aang. Come on—why would you do that?”

“Because I needed to distract him while I took Azula.”

“Took Azula? Where?”

Aang bends climbs onto Appa’s back and takes hold of the reins. “I’m going to take her bending, Katara. I have a plan! I need to take the bending of a firebender, a waterbender, an earthbender and an airbender. If I do, I can actually create new benders. I can bring back the Air Nation! I wanted to tell you Katara, but I haven’t felt safe to do it, because of the way you’ve been treating me and my culture.”

“What in Roku’s name are you talking about Aang?”

“ _You_ tried to convince me to end Fire Lord Ozai’s life, even though you know that life is sacred to airbenders. _You_ didn’t stand up for me in the south pole, even though you know I don’t eat meat. _You_ didn’t care that that Zuko’s awful Air Nation room made a joke out of my culture. And you aren’t even wearing the necklace I gave you to show your support for the Air Nomads!”

Katara is shaking with fury, now. “Aang this is ridiculous!” 

“Is it? Because I’m completely supportive of your culture! I don’t mind that you eat meat. I even sang your stupid hunting songs. Actually, I might care more about your culture than _you_ do. You were going to let the pirates get away with that mask, remember? And it’s sacred to the Water Tribe!”

“I hate to have to tell you this Aang, but that mask was old, dirty, and absolutely nobody cared about it!”

“Like my culture, right? Everyone’s always dismissing it like it’s some old relic. I just thought you would be better than that.”

“I’m so sorry I don’t live up to your standards, oh great Avatar.” 

Aang’s eyebrows twitch in frustration. “You’re not getting the point, Katara. I know you can understand it if you try. I haven’t been able to talk to you about what’s been going on with me because you’ve been so insensitive. I’ve been busy trying to bring back the airbenders and restore my entire culture! Don’t you understand how important that is?”

“Have you been drinking cactus juice? This whole plan sounds crazy.” 

“It’s not crazy! I found it all in one of the books the Fire Nation stole from the Eastern Air Temple. Don’t you see how perfect it is? I can take the bending of four terrible people—people like Azula and Hama—and I can use it to do good instead of evil. But, again, I’ve been afraid to tell you because you don’t value my culture _at all._ ”

Katara has heard enough. Aang’s plan sounds dark and dangerous, uncomfortably close to something Ozai might come up with. She flicks open her skins and rolls wide. Water from the gutters rushes forward in a wave. Aang is knocked backwards off of Appa, but catches himself and springs lightly back up to his feet. 

“Yip yip, boy!” he calls, and Appa rises into the air without him.

Another jet of water catches Aang in the gut, but he quickly redirects it back to Katara. She tries to bring the water around for another attack, but finds herself on the defensive. Aang is shaking the slate shingles of the roof under her feet. She stumbles, and Aang uses that moment to open his glider, meeting Appa in the air. Katara tries to send a water rope after the bison, but he is too far away. Furious, she uses the last of the water in her skins to slice through an ugly gargoyle made to look like a dragon. The head falls at her feet and eyes her morosely—reminding her of Zuko. She groans. 

_How am I going to explain all this to Zuko?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two more chapters to format post until the end of part one. Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Knowing that the danger has passed, Katara doesn’t bother to conceal her steps back to the garden. She walks through the halls of the palace like a sleepwalker—the late afternoon sunshine gives everything the weird, slanted look of a fever dream. As she passes the twisted mountain pine where she is meant to be meeting Zuko, his hand shoots out and pulls her backward into a crevice between the trunk of the tree and the hard garden wall. He’s breathing heavily, and his eyes are wide. She notices that his hair has come loose under the canopy of pine-needles. He looks completely wild.

“Please tell me you found my sister.” His voice is low—almost a growl.

Katara shivers, her sense memory bringing her back to a time when standing this close to Zuko would have frightened her. Her voice catches in her throat, and for a moment she is unable to get the words out:

“I’m so sorry, Zuko. She’s gone. Aang took her.”

Zuko’s expression brightens immediately. “Oh, well, she’s with Aang. That’s okay. You had me worried there for a second.” He reaches out and gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze. It’s almost too much for Katara to bear. 

“Aang _kidnapped_ her, Zuko. She’s his prisoner.”

“What do you mean ‘kidnapped?’” His brow furrows, unable to accept the word at face-value. Katara sighs. Knowing that this will be a long story, she takes his arm genly, and pulls him back out from behind the tree. She leads them both to the bench and resists the temptation to burry her face in her hands or yell out in frustration. Zuko sits down beside her and waits patiently for Katara to explain.

“It was those spiritbending scrolls, Zuko. Aang thinks he’s found a way to bring back the airbenders and restore his culture. A ritual. He says that if he can steal the bending from all four nations, somehow, he can just give people airbending. He’s chosen Azula—and Hama too, I think—to be the ones who…

Her voice trails off in silent tears, but Zuko nods understandingly. His sister will be one of the four to lose her bending in sacrifice. “You were right Katara,” he says. Someone was giving Azula chi blockers, after all...”

“I wish I wasn’t,” Katara hiccups.

“I’ll bet he spiked the water supply around the prison, too. It wouldn’t have been difficult.”

At last, Katara can’t take it anymore. She collapses into wracking sobs. Zuko, usually so awkward in these situations, pulls her tightly to him. Her head fits neatly under the cook of his neck, and he rubs her back while the tears run out. After a minute she is calmed by Zuko’s arms around her and the smell of the pine. 

“I’m so sorry, Zuko,” she whispers. “I didn’t realize what Aang was doing until it was too late. I should have known.”

“Hey!” He says, coming around to kneel before her on the bench. “Hey! There’s no way you could’ve known! This is _way_ out of character for Aang. But I’m sure if we can reach him in time to talk to him, we can fix this!”

She nods and Zuko returns to his place beside her the bench—not touching this time. They sit in silence for a long moment, Katara wiping her tear-stained face and Zuko looking thoughtfully out at the sun dipping lower in the sky. 

“This is going to sound absolutely crazy,” he says after a while, “but do you ever think that, in a lot of ways, coming home has actually been harder than the war?”

In spite of it all, Katara can’t help but smile at the familiar thought spoken aloud. Zuko notices her expression, and he’s torn between the desire to smile back, and the fear that he’s just said something completely stupid, and she’s laughing at him. Then their eyes meet, and an understanding passes between them, something that feels sacred to that moment in the garden, under the light of the setting sun.

The sound of running footsteps nearby brings them back to reality; the outside world has caught up to them. Aiko appears around the garden gates, breathless and clutching his side.

“There you are Lord Zuko! We’ve been looking for you!”

Zuko rises from the bench. “I’m sorry Aiko. I needed to speak with Katara after the explosion. It was caused by Avatar Aang. But you’re right, I should have sought you out to let you know that the danger had passed.”

Aiko looks fit to burst; his face is brick red and his eyes are popping like Momo’s.  
“This isn’t _about_ the explosion. It’s your uncle!”

“What’s happened to my uncle?” Zuko’s voice is sharp.

But Aiko is unable to speak. He is not an athletic man, and the run from the palace has evidently worn him out. Katara comes to stand next to Zuko, resting a comforting hand on his back, and praying that—whatever it is—Zuko’s uncle will be okay. After a minute, Aiko begins again.

“It’s Ba Sing Se. The city has fallen to Kai Kozu, and your uncle has been taken hostage.”

“Can we pay to have him returned to the Fire Nation? And what about Toph and Suki?”

Aiko shakes his head. “Kai Kozu isn’t negotiating ransoms; he’s carrying out executions. We haven’t heard from Toph Beifong or _any_ of the Kyoshi warriors, we don’t even know that they were in the city.”

“Then we need to find out where they are! And we need to bring them back!”

“My Lord, think what you’re saying. If you bring the might of the Fire Nation down on Earth Kingdom it will start another war.”

Zuko’s temper flares, “I don’t care if it causes another war! I don’t care if it brings on the coming of Agni and the Age of Dragons! _What’s the point of being Fire Lord, if I can’t protect the people I care about?_ ”

“Zuko, hold on,” Katara whispers, “Let’s think about this for a minute. We aren’t going to abandon your uncle, but Aiko is right. If you try to send in the Fire Navy it’s only going to make things worse for your him and the for the Fire Nation. But there are other ways!” 

Conscious that Aiko listening to every word, she leans in closer and whispers in Zuko’s ear. “What about the Blue Spirit? Could he slip away from the Fire Nation for a few days? We were supposed to be in Ba Sing Se anyway—your schedule is clear. It’s the week of the summer solstice.” 

Zuko freezes, then turns to her, impressed. He nods.  
“Aiko,” he barks. “Do I have your trust?”

“Always,” the attendant says, bowing low.

“Then you should know that I’m not feeling very well. I think I might be catching fire throat. It’s a bad case—I’ll be in bed for at least a week.”

Aiko nods, catching on quickly. 

“Oh, and there should be a civilian airship in the naval yard. Master Katara will be using that to go…”

“To visit Ember Island,” Katara suggests.

“Ember Island, yes, exactly.” Zuko finishes, realizing that if any of the old women in court suspect his illness, the worst they will imagine is young romance and a clandestine trip together.

* * *

Aang grins watching the city of Omashu appear once again on the horizon. Capturing Hama had been tricky. It was impossible to control individual dosages of the chi blocker, since he drugged the entire water supply of the prison. At first, he had been worried that Hama wouldn’t get enough of the chi blocker to subdue her bending. If anything, she had gotten too much, and he all but carried her in and out of corridors and tunnels to avoid the guards.

Aang looks at Azula, lying next to the old waterbender. He tries not to dwell on his fight with Katara. Eventually, she will understand and ask for his forgiveness. He imagines the look of contrition on her face when she realizes that he’s restored the Air Nation all by himself.

Compared to what came before, this next step should be easy. He’ll stop for a quick visit with Kai Kozu in Omashu, check in on the city’s recovery, and fulfill his Avatar duties. Then, he’ll ask to take Caihong. 

Caihong isn’t a bender, it’s true, but Aang is hopeful that he’s found a way around that problem. The _Canon of Kinder Spirits_ talked a lot about receptivity. Guru Pathik—who had lived his life in the Air Nation—was not receptive to Ozai’s firebending. The bending and the man were simply incompatible. But if Aang had tried to pass on his own airbending to Guru Pathik, it _may_ have worked. If Aang can pass his airbending to Caihong before the ritual, he will have the four benders he needs. _Besides, it’s only fair_ , Aang thinks, _after what Caihong did to Bumi._

The palace terrace rumbles a little under Appa’s weight. The whole structure is partially collapsed and blackened from the fires. The upper city looks deserted. Aang wonders if Kai Kozu simply moved everyone further down the mountain to make room for rebuilding projects during the day. Dusk is just beginning to fall on the city; _everyone is probably at home with their families,_ Aang thinks. 

But then he notices a light flickering inside the palace. Someone’s home. 

Aang double checks that Azula and Hama are tied tightly before bending himself over piles of rubble, up to a high window. Through the streaky soot-stained pane, he can see into the same great hall that had been filled with nobles the night after Bumi died. All the fine decorations have been stripped away. The room is bare, except for a single ornate chair at the far end of the hall, where Huan reclines like a lazy king holding court.

“Aaand I’ll tell you another thing!” Huan says to the crowd of men around him, slurring his words badly. “The bamboo cane was too good for her. She’s the one who came here! If you ask me, Kai Kozu has a soft spot for her, because she’s kind of _mysterial_ —no wait, _mistrial_ . Hang on, I’ll get it!”

The men around him snort into their drinks. One of them raises his glass in the air. “Here’s to Huan, the new king of Omashu!” he calls.

“To Huan!” The other men lift their glasses and drink deeply. Aang’s eyes narrow, and he drops down into the shadowy hall. The men freeze as he comes into the light of the fire. The strong drink has blurred their senses, making them jumpy and paranoid. 

“What’s going on here?” Aang demands. “Where is Kai Kozu?”

Huan straightens up, like a child caught sleeping at his desk. “Avatar Aang! We weren’t expecting you. We were just in the middle of a…a meeting. About—”

“Zoning ordinances!” one of his men prompts.

“Yes, zoning ordinances—of course!”

Aang bites back the temptation to ask whether Huan even knows what the word ‘ordinance’ means. But these men were joking about committing acts of torture, right under Kai Kozu’s nose! Aang needs to find him and tell him what’s Huan’s been up to as quickly as possible.

“I’ll ask you one more time; _where_ is Kai Kozu?”

“Kai Kozu is in Ba Sing Se. I’m in charge now, Avatar.” Huan can’t bring himself meet Aang’s steel gray eyes.

“So, you’re getting drunk and beating people with bamboo sticks?” Aang’s voice rises in fury. “What do you think Kai Kozu say when he hears about that?” The men snicker, and Aang looks around confused. “How is that funny?”

“Who do you think our instructions are coming from, Avatar?” one of the men asks. Aang looks at Huan, horrorstruck.

“Is this true?” 

Huan shifts uncomfortably in the throne “We’re dealing with dangerous people—it’s a _good_ thing Kai Kozu knows how to handle them.”

Bile rises in Aang’s throat. He feels himself slipping into the Avatar state. It’s the closest he’s come since his battle with Ozai. Huan and his men look on—silent and terrified—as the arrows on his head and arms begin to glow blue. It takes a full minute before Aang regains control. His breathing slows, and his feet settle firmly on the ground. These men have a lot to answer for, but punishing them would be an act of revenge. The real problem—if what they’re saying is true—is Kai Kozu. If he is the one directing all of this, then he must also be the one to answer for it. 

“So, what you’re saying is that Kai Kozu betrayed the promises he made to me and to his own people. He’s no better than Ozai.”

“Hang on a minute!” Huan is on his feet now, red faced. “That’s not true!”

“You just said that the orders came from Kai Kozu himself! He promised me that he wouldn’t kill anyone!”

“And he hasn’t!” Huan spits.

“But he’s still the one giving the orders! Kai Kozu is a liar and worse.”

“No!” A vein twitches in Huan’s temple. “Kai Kozu doesn’t always tell the truth, but he’s not a liar!”

For a moment, Aang thinks of Sokka and how he would react if he were here. He imagines his friend would be apoplectic, gesticulating wildly, expostulating something about a contradiction in terms.

“That doesn’t make sense Huan!” Aang yells.

“Maybe not to you, Avatar. I’ll bet you don’t understand a lot of the important things Kai Kozu understands. He believes in something bigger. He has _ideals!_ ” Huan gestures wildly, trying to convey something beyond words. Aang can tell that they have reached his philosophical limit. It’s no use trying to argue with him or trying to make see sense. He believes in Kai Kozu, and will follow him as blindly just as Azula followed Ozai.

“Where is Caihong?” Aang asks, finally.

“They’re out in the stables. You see! Kai Kozu keeps his promises.”

 _Sure he does,_ Aang thinks.

Just as he is about to leave, Huan calls after him: “Where are you going now, Avatar? Are you going to find Kai Kozu?”

“Yes, I am!” Aang says, knocking his glider open with an angry rap on the stone floor.

“Well, when you do, remember that he was the one who freed us from Chin labor camps, he was the one who made sure we had enough to eat after the Fire Nation destroyed our farms. He was the one who finally got rid of old King Bumi—”

Aang turns to look backwards over his shoulder. “He did what?”

Huan gulps comically. “Kai Kozu was the one who got that twig of a physician to poison the king. It wasn’t hard; we had their family locked up.”

Aang feel’s Ozai’s fire rise in his veins. The anger extends through him, and out of his body in a ripple of stone. The floor rises and bucks the group of men upwards like a ship in a storm. They fall to the ground with a snap of broken bones. Aang knows that none of them have been broken beyond recovery, but it was a close thing. Aang doesn’t look back, but flies out of the open window and disappears into the night.

Sure enough, Caihong is locked away in the burned-out stables. The cage is small and smells like wooly-pigs. Aang breaks it with a heavy rock to the latch. Caihong barely has the strength to open their eyes. At the sight of Aang, they faint dead away. Despite Aang’s dislike of Caihong, he can’t help feeling angry at the way they’ve been treated in the weeks since Kai Kozu had taken power. Their face is still smeared with the soot of the Omashu fires. It’s clear they haven’t been fed, either. They were thin before, but now they are a bundle of skin and bones, weightless in Aang’s arms.

Back on Appa, Aang doesn’t bother to drug Caihong. There’s no point. Instead, he leaves food and water beside them. He feels guilty now, knowing how Caihong has suffered. Turning them into an airbender might be too much for their feeble body to take. But he waves the thought aside; after all, Caihong is very resilient, and it’s not as if Aang has another option. He can only think of a handful of people who would be so spiritually receptive to airbending, and none of them are in the Earth Kindgom.

He decides to look on the bright side; now he has a firebender, a waterbender, and a makeshift airbender. All that’s missing is an earthbender, and he knows exactly who he is going to use. At first, he had thought to track down Long Feng, but now he gathers his reins and steers Appa towards Ba Sing Se—and a far worthier target.

* * *

Toph hears the airship before anyone else at Full Moon Bay. She closes her eyes and remembers facing an entire fleet of them. She still wakes up sweating from nightmares where she is dangling in midair, hanging on to Sokka for dear life. Fortunately, her experience taught her quite a lot about airships and their weaknesses. This one, flying towards Full Moon Bay with all the speed of an attacking army, won’t even see it coming.

She steps out onto the rocky beach. With a flick of the wrist, she molds her bracelet of malleable black rock into the shape of a throwing star, hurling it high, towards the sound of the motor. There is a distant whoosh of air as metal rips through cloth. A moment later, the throwing star lands, in the shape of a ball, back in her open palm. Toph grins and gives jubilant _whoop_ . 

Then, all around her, the world explodes into sound: gasps, strangled cries, and the creak of the floundering machine passing just overhead. Toph realizes with horror that, in her eagerness, she may have brought the ship crashing down right onto camp. But the airship lands, with a deafening crash, out on the bay. The resulting tidal wave leaves Toph soaked and far less triumphant than she had been a minute ago. 

Instead of sinking, the airship rides a second tidal wave all the way to shore, landing high on the rocks a few yards away from the spot where Toph stands dripping in the sand. Two figures emerge from the sodden wreck.

“What? Are you just going around knocking airships out of the sky?” Toph recognizes that chiding tone. Her face breaks out in a wide grin.

“Katara! Zuko! I didn’t know it was you guys!”

“Maybe next time you could look at the insignia on the side of the ship before you attack?”

“One day, Zuko, you’ll remember that _I’m blind._ ”

He flushes brick red. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be, Zuko.” Katara puts a hand up to stop his apology. “Toph’s trying to put you on the spot. She knows she shouldn’t be taking down unidentified airships with goodness knows who inside!”

Toph pulls at her collar a little uncomfortably. Katara has a knack for catching people out like this, regardless of how they try to hide their faults. She can see through Sokka’s quips, Zuko’s dispassion, and Aang’s militant positivity. Toph’s bluster has never really been a match for her.

“All right, fine! I should have checked with someone before taking you down—you happy? But it’s a good thing I did! You were headed straight for Ba Sing Se! Was that the plan? Land an unidentified aircraft in an occupied city?

Zuko and Katara start speaking at the same time. Toph catches phrases like, “something like that, but…” and “well it was a little more nuanced...,” which confirms her worst suspicions. She rolls her eyes back so hard that it almost pains her.

“Seriously guys! You were just going to hope for the best? Are you two here to rescue Iroh or get arrested yourselves?”

“We had a plan!” Katara says indignantly. 

“We were going to pose as cabbage merchants.” Zuko adds, a little lamely. 

Toph shakes her head. “You two are something else, you know that? Wait until Suki and Ty Lee hear about this. They’re here too. Actually, I should probably go get them. They should be here while we fill you in on our _much better_ plan.” She turns to call for them, but they are already picking their way across the rocks, drawn by the sound of the massive crash.

“Zuko! Katara! It’s soooo great to see you guys!” Ty Lee embraces the newcomers with her usual enthusiasm. Katara bristles a little. She likes Ty Lee just fine, but it’s hard to look past her impressive chi blocking abilities. With a couple quick hand motions, she can take away anyone’s bending; a thought which never quite leaves the corners of Katara’s mind when they’re together.

“Katara! Is Sokka with you? How is he?” Suki asks.

“He’s safe!” Katara assures the other girl. “He’s safe in the Southern Water Tribe and missing you terribly!”

Toph frowns deeply, apparently already annoyed with the conversation.

“Okay people, enough small talk. We need to focus on getting into the city and rescuing Iroh. Ty Lee, Suki, and I have come up with a pretty simple plan. Everyone, gather ‘round.” Toph calls up five flat stones together in a tight circle. Once they are all settled, she jumps right in: “Before dawn tomorrow, we’ll travel by water to a spot just north of the city. Katara, I’m glad you’re here, otherwise Ty Lee would be in charge of steering the boat. And that didn’t go so well last time.”

“Hey, it’s not like I crashed it!”

Toph waves away her comment. “A few months ago, I found a second entrance to the Crystal Catacombs. It’s partially hidden, and I wouldn’t have been able to see it if it weren’t for my feet, so I doubt Kai Kozu is aware of it.”

“We’ll use the catacombs to make our way into the city, itself. Thanks to Katara and Zuko’s adventures in Earth Kingdom prison, _we_ know that they can lead us directly into the upper ring. And if they’ve got Iroh anywhere, it’s in the upper ring. Remember, he’s a hero in Ba Sing Se. The people would break him out of either of the lower rings in five seconds flat.” 

Toph cuts off her explanation and looks over Katara and Zuko, who are still dripping wet from their landing in the bay. Zuko keeps glancing over at Katara, hoping she will bend them both dry, but Katara doesn’t seem to mind her clothes being a little damp on a sunny day.

“You two don’t have anything else you could wear, do you? You’re looking very Water Tribe, Katara. And Zuko, the crown? Really?”

Zuko breaks from the group to fish a duffel bag out of the fallen airship, removing a bundle of green clothes. He hands half the stack to Katara and tucks the rest under his arm. Tophs grins, thankful that the would-be cabbage merchants packed the right clothing, at least. “Great! Now, in the upper ring, Suki is in charge. She’s trained for this kind of thing, and has the most experience. What she says, goes, capeesh? Once we’ve got Iroh, we’ll use the catacombs to get out of the city and we’re home free! Does anyone have any questions, comments, concerns?”

Ty Lee actually raises her hand. “I have a question. Well, it’s more of a comment really. Or maybe it’s a concern?”

“Just spit it out!” Toph says, irritated.

“Okay—I was thinking—if we leave and can’t get back, what’s going to happen to all the people here? None of them are good fighters. Well, then it hit me; what if we fix up that balloon and send them to the Fire Nation where it’s safe! The Fire Lord can bypass the port authority’s immigration quota, right Zuko?”

Zuko rakes his hand through his hair and groans. “I can. The problem is my ministers. They’re more scared of immigrants than they were of my crazy father. If I could just figure out a way to make them see sense—”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Ty Lee laughs. “Just frame it as a public works project—Earthbenders for Infrastructure—or something like that. The ministers will eat it up, as long as they know they can get something out of it! Like a new house, or a library named in their honor.”

Zuko looks impressed. “Ty Lee, any time you want a job back in the Fire Nation, you can come work for me.”

“Thanks!” She says, smiling brightly.

“There’s one more thing we need to tell you all.” Katara speaks low, so that no one can overhear. “I’m afraid it isn’t good news.” 

They listen carefully while Katara and Zuko fill them in on Aang’s plan. Toph shakes her head as they explain details of spiritbending. 

“I _knew_ that lion turtle sounded too good to be true. If I told him once, I’ve told him a thousand times: sometimes there’s just no good solution to a problem. But does he listen? No. And now he’s landed himself in an even bigger mess.”

“But this is Aang we’re talking about.” Suki cuts in. “I mean, it’s not like he’s evil. It’s not like he’s _Ozai_ —no offense, Zuko.”

“None taken.”

“Can’t we just—you know—talk to him?” Suki finishes, biting her lip.

Katara shifts a little uncomfortably. “He wasn’t too interested in talking to me. You all might have better luck.”

“Wow, guys, this is soooo crazy.” Ty Lee says breathlessly. “Who would have thought the Avatar could go bad? It’s almost like one of the stories from the Book of the Sages—it’s just so dark.”

Toph shakes her head. “He’s not bad. He just needs a little sense knocked into him.” She looks over at Zuko, who’s shaking his head.

“I’m just trying to imagine what Uncle would say about all this.”

“And?” Toph asks.

“I don’t know. Probably something really insightful.”

“Well, don’t stress about it. If all goes according to plan, by this time tomorrow you’ll be able to ask him yourself.”

And with that the group set to work. Katara, Toph, and Zuko work together to fix the airship, while Suki and Ty Lee gather the refugees. It’s a tight fit, but, with some modifications by Toph to the metal carriage, they manage to squeeze everyone in. They take off in the late afternoon, following the setting sun towards their new home in the Fire Nation. The group on the beach watches them go, praying to all the spirits in the heavens that they will find happiness there. 

With the refugees gone, there is plenty of room to spread out, but Katara, Toph, Zuko, Suki, and Ty Lee stick close together, arranging their sleeping mats around in a circle. They all pretend to sleep, but the next morning the dark circles around their eyes betray them. They are all about to walk willingly into the occupied city of Ba Sing Se accompanied by the Fire Lord. If their plan goes wrong—if they are caught—they all know what the consequence will be.

* * *

After stowing the ice dodger, Bato and Sokka take the last leg of their journey on foot. Sokka is pleased to see they’re making good time and should arrive in Ba Sing Se just a few days after the summer solstice. They stop for lunch at the crest of a hill, somewhere near Lake Laogai. They drink in the pleasant breeze and admire the spectacular view. An ocean of blooming wildflowers stretches before them, and Sokka grins.

“What are you gonna do?” he asks. “You know, when you get to Ba Sing Se?”

Bato raises an eyebrow. “Other than keep my eye on you? Let’s see, I’ll get a job—not fishing. I’ll spend my money on food and nice clothes. I’ll do what everybody else does in the big city; I’ll enjoy myself! And maybe one day I’ll be ready to start building a real life again. Who knows?”

Sokka thinks about Suki. He knows she’s probably out in the countryside somewhere, keeping the peace for the Earth King. But he imagines her waiting for him outside the Jasmine Dragon, sipping tea and wearing a green dress. He turns his head north towards the Earth Kingdom capital, willing himself closer, and spots something that nearly makes him spit out his seal jerky. He shuts his eyes, rubs them, and looks back up at the sky. There’s no mistaking it now—it’s Appa, flying quickly southwest. He passes within miles of where they are sitting.

“Bato looks quizzically at Sokka. “Do you think Aang came back for your sister after all?”

“No. She’s in the Fire Nation. He wouldn’t know where to find her. And besides, he’s coming from the wrong direction. If he’s here, he’s here alone.” The thought makes Sokka’s blood boil. It would be one thing if none of them made it to the reunion, but for Aang to come without them? The betrayal stings.

“Bato?” He says, turning to the older man. “I’d like to suggest a little detour.”


	8. Chapter 8

Toph had been right—there was no way anyone could have found the second entrance into the catacombs, a mere speck on the barren steppe that stretches east of Ba Sing Se. They walk inland for miles, and find nothing to break the monotony but a few clouds and pack of frightened jackalopes. Eventually Toph stops and points.

“Well, this is it,” she says.

It looks like the burrow of a very small badgermole, and they have to crouch one by one to step inside. Toph goes first, followed by Suki and Ty Lee. Zuko and Katara bring up the rear. Zuko lights a fire in his palm to illuminate the darkness. For a few hundred feet, the walls of the cavern are cakey mud, then stone, then suddenly dim glowing crystal. Zuko lets the fire in his hand fade.

At the sight of the crystals, his heart begins to pound against his chest, beating out a rhythm: _dishonor, dishonor_. He looks back at Katara, wondering if she can hear it, too. But she doesn’t seem to notice. She gives him a reassuring smile, which makes her look eerie and timeless in the faint green light. Suddenly, she’s the Katara of his memory—the Katara of one year ago… He feels her hand reaching up to touch his scar, and he knows that he’s about to betray her... 

“It’s like it’s haunted.” Zuko jumps. It takes him a minute before he realizes that the cave has widened enough for Katara to come up beside him, and not his own thoughts echoing in the darkness.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He can feel her looking at him sideways, the way she does when she has something on her mind. This time, he turns to meet her gaze directly, daring her to say whatever it is. She looks away quickly. Even by the dim glow of the crystals, he can see that he’s unsettled her. He feels a twinge of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m sorry for what I did that day,” he says lowly. “That’s what you’re thinking about, right?”

“Well…yes,” she admits, “but it’s not just that.”

“You can tell me you know. If you want.”

She hesitates a moment before asking, “Remember when I offered to heal your scar?”

“Right before I betrayed you? Yeah, it’s kind of hard to forget.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Zuko. When I met you that day, I didn’t think of you as a person—not really. I offered to heal your scar, but I didn’t think about what other scars you might be carrying.”

“I didn’t have any other—”

“There are worse scars than the ones we carry on our skin, Zuko.” 

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“What I’m trying to say, is if I’d known, I might have understood. I _do_ understand—now.” At that moment, they pass through the wide chamber where they faced each other a year ago in a battle of fire and water. Zuko winces. “You can forgive yourself, Zuko,” she whispers, and brushes his arm as gently as a flutterbat wing.

For a moment—only a moment—he wants to reach out and kiss her—not in friendship, but warmly, passionately. He wonders what she would do: Would she push him away? Would she laugh at him? Or would she kiss him back wholeheartedly, the way he sometimes wishes Mai would kiss him. 

_Mai,_ he shakes his head, reminding himself that she too is somewhere in the Earth Kingdom, and may be in danger. How would she feel if she knew what had just flashed through his mind?

“Mai says my scar makes me better-looking,” Zuko’s not quite sure why he says it, but Katara looks indignant.

“Oh, she did, did she?” Her eyebrows knot, the way they do when she is dangerously angry.

“Yeah…” Zuko says, a little alarmed. “What, do you not think so?”

“Handsomest guy I’ve ever seen!” Toph calls from the front, and Suki snickers. “Be quiet for a minute, will ya? My feet need to concentrate!”

Zuko obeys, but his eyes linger on Katara a moment longer. He wonders what she would have said if Toph hadn’t interrupted her—probably something about it being what’s inside that counts… Somehow, the thought doesn’t satisfy him.

Into his mind—unbidden—comes the image of the palace gardens at twilight. Once again, Zuko pulls Katara behind the pine tree, but this time he winds his fingers through her hair and kisses her fiercely. She teases him—pulling back just a little and spinning him around, until finally he corners her against the rough bark of the pine tree. Suddenly he’s paralyzed, caught in Katara’s steady blue-eyed gaze. They are both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling in time. Then, quick as lightning, Katara lifts her chin and closes the distance between them—drawing him in for another kiss. It’s slower this time, and when they finally break apart, Katara’s hand rests on Zuko’s chest—right at the spot where Azula struck home. Zuko realizes with a sharp intake of breath that this the one person in all the world who he trusts to mend his deepest scars. 

But Katara is not done with him, yet. She leans back against the tree, and shoots him a wry smile. “I’ll save you from the pirates,” she says.

“The pirates…yeah.”

“Zuko?” He can hear someone calling his name, as if from a great distance. His vision clears, and he realizes that Suki has been giving instructions.

“I asked are you ready to free Iroh?” she says, looking concerned.

Zuko flushes scarlet and hopes that—in the catacombs—it’s too dark to notice.

“Yeah,” he says. “I’m ready.”

Suki looks at him—unconvinced, but it’s too late to ask questions. With a final _crack_ , Toph rips open the passageway onto the parquet marble floors of the upper ring. She quickly closes the opening behind them, leaving no trace of the tunnels below. Suki takes in their surroundings at a glance, with the trained eye of a Kyoshi warrior. Kai Kozu has posted guards all along the inner-city walls; they are obvious even from a distance. The rest of the upper ring is abandoned, and an eerie calm stretches over the wide avenues of the city’s wealthiest district. 

“C’mon,” Suki says, beckoning her friends around the corner towards a windowless building, which casts a boxy shadow at the foot of the palace. Forced to walk in the sunlight, they crouch low and move quickly across exposed courtyards, crossing little ornamental bridges over the upper ring’s many decorative ponds and rivers. 

When they reach the building, Suki explains. “This is the headquarters for the Kyoshi warriors in the city. It used to be the palace kitchens. See how it’s built low and designed to prevent fires? It also happens to be the most easily defensible building in the city. If Kai Kozu is half the strategist I think he is, that’s where he’ll be keeping Iroh.”

“You’re so smart Suki!” Ty Lee whispers as they creep along the foundations.

“This is really nice bonding, ladies, but let’s save the congratulations for after we’ve actually rescued him.” Toph spits on her hands, rubs them together, and removes a hunk of wall, leaving a hole large enough to climb through. Zuko goes first, followed by Katara, Ty Lee and Suki. Toph waits a moment, allowing her feet to cast one final look out over the city. The emptiness is eerie. She shakes her head, and climbs into the hole. On the other side is a narrow passageway, lined on either side with prison bars. 

Suki lets out a low whistle. “Wow, I _hate_ what they’ve done to the place,” she whispers, and Ty Lee nods. The bars are pressed close together. They look more like animal cages than actual cells. The smell of the place is overpowering. One cage is packed so tightly, that small body parts like elbows and noses, peek out from between the thin bars. There is no avoiding this walk between the cells. As they creep along, the noise intensifies. The air fills with the sounds of people calling out for release mixed with the startled braying of animals. Suki is horrified to see that men are sharing cages with armadillo lions, and badger moles—even a giant goat gorilla, stuffed into the only wooden crate in the room.

“They know I can bend metal!” Toph raises her voice against the din. “I’ll bet that wooden cage is important!” 

On closer inspection they see that the bars are thick and lattice patterned—stronger than any of the metal cages. The goat gorilla has its back pressed up against the roof. It’s unclear whether it’s straining against its captivity or it simply doesn’t have room to stand another way. When it sees them, it whimpers and nuzzles the bars. Katara recognizes the watery eyes and floppy ears.

“That’s Flopsie! You guys, this is Bumi’s pet goat gorilla!” 

Flopsie seems to brighten at the sound of his own name, and begins wagging his tail violently. A voice cries out in the darkness behind the animal.

“Ouch! My friend, if we are going to continue with this living arrangement, you must learn to respect my afternoon nap.”

“Uncle!” Zuko cries out, and presses his hand through the bars. A second later he jumps back, rubbing his palms on the front of his tunic.

“Zuko! What are you doing? You shouldn’t be here!” Iroh moves into the light, wide-eyed at the sight of all five of his rescuers.

“What are you talking about, Uncle? Of course I was going to come for you! But, uh, why are these bars so sticky?” 

“What do you think?” Iroh snorts. “They’re fireproof.”

Losing no time, Katara squeezes past Zuko and begins working on the lock. She’s used waterbending on wooden prisons before. She’ll be able to free Iroh, but it will take precious minutes. Meanwhile, the voices of the other prisoners rise in the passageway. The racket is almost certainly going to draw attention, if it hasn’t already. Suki frowns; something about this doesn’t feel right. There should have been more people in the upper ring, for one thing. But they’re in too deep now to turn back; they might as well go all the way.

“Check the rest of the cages,” she orders. “You’re looking for the Earth King, but don’t let that stop you from freeing the other prisoners. Toph, open the quietest cages first. We need to control the noise in here.”

Toph nods, and she and Ty Lee disappear down the long hallway. They peer into each cage, but see no sign of Earth King Kuei or his poor, tormented bear. Suki had said to open the quietest cages first, and that ends up being the animal cages. As the humans start to catch on, an unnatural hush falls over the hallway, which Toph can’t help feeling is just as noticeable as the noise before. 

The corridor starts to fill up. In minutes, it’s a sea of foul-smelling prisoners. As one particularly large group files out of their cage, Toph loses sight of Ty Lee, separated by the crush of people. Then she hears a delighted, high-pitched squeal, and knows she’s found her again.

“Toph! Toph! Come look who it is!”

Toph elbows her way towards to the sound, and finds Ty Lee hugging her friend Mai tight against her, as if she’s worried the other girl might float away without someone to hold her down. Mai _is_ looking alarmingly thin, Toph notices; like stiff breeze might actually carry her off.

“Mai, are you okay? I’m so, so sorry this happened to you.”

“Jeez, Ty Lee, let her breathe.” Toph says, and she releases the other girl with an anxious giggle.

“Thanks,” says Mai, which Toph interprets to be less for the rescue and more for the release from Ty Lee’s enthusiastic embrace.

“No problem.”

“But what are you guys doing here?” Mai asks. “And what are you planning to do with all these people?”

Toph shrugs. “Don’t ask me. Suki’s the woman in charge. She’s at the other end of the hall with Zuko and Iroh.”

“Zuko is here?” Mai asks, stunned. “That idiot! He does know he’s the Fire Lord, right?”

Again, Toph shrugs, not wanting to get involved with the complicated dynamics that exist between the Fire Lord and his girlfriend. If she’s being honest, she never really liked Mai, and not just because she spent most of the early days of their acquaintance trying to pin her with darts and throwing stars. She doesn’t like the way she talks about Zuko. He’s naïve—it’s true—but he’s not a fool. Instead replying, she strikes the heel of her foot against the floor one last time, and sees that all the cages are empty. No Earth King. No Bosco.

“C’mon,” she says, and pulls Mai and Ty Lee in a chain through the crowd, back to where Katara is making a final push on the lock of Iroh’s prison. It opens at last with a crack like shattering ice. The bars swing out wide—enough for Iroh to squeeze past Flopsie. He embraces his nephew, and tousles Tophs hair affectionately. Suki imagines that if anyone else tried to do that to Toph, they’d probably lose their hand.

“We found Mai.” Toph points out, unnecessarily. Zuko has already noticed, and he’s hugging her tighter than Ty Lee.

“Get off me, Zuko,” she says. “I smell terrible.” But he doesn’t seem to care—his worst fears have been confirmed. She had been in danger, after all. 

Eventually, Toph pulls him off of her, hissing, “focus up, Fire Lord.”

Suki has climbed to the top of Iroh’s cage, and is looking out over the crowd of people dressed in rags of all different shades and hues. Kai Kozu’s enemies are not limited to the greens and browns of the Earth Kingdom. Suki’s heart quickens as she addresses them. “If we’re going to have any shot of getting out of here, we need your cooperation. I know it’s difficult, but you need to keep your voices down. Too much noise might attract attention from Kai Kozu’s people.”

An abrupt hush falls over the crowd, and Suki is pleased. She must have sounded more authoritative than she imagined. Then, from somewhere behind her, she hears a low, dangerous voice.

“Oh, it’s way too late for that. Did you seriously think we didn’t know about the Crystal Catacombs?” 

Quickly, Katara and Iroh move to block Zuko from view. He may not be wearing his headpiece, but his face is too easily recognizable. The rest of them might be caught without geopolitical repercussions, but a clandestine mission by the Fire Lord himself would be an act of war. From the other end of the hall, Suki can hear footsteps. Ten or more guards pour in behind the crowd of prisoners. Suki counts at least three Kyoshi warriors in full makeup and uniform, and it breaks her heart. 

At last, the speaker, a woman in black, steps out of the doorway enough to get a good look at her face. Suki recognizes her, vaguely. She has straight black hair and heavily lidded eyes. A red serpent tattoo coils around her shoulder. Then she remembers; this is Jun—the woman with the pet Shirshu who Zuko once asked to track down the Avatar. 

“How sweet. You got the whole gang back together to rescue your creepy uncle.”

“So, you’re with Kai Kozu now?” Toph calls. “I can’t believe I liked you!”

“Tell me about it,” Iroh mutters under his breath.

“Only I’m _not_ with Kai Kozu, am I? Because your little bald-headed friend kidnapped him.”

Nobody speaks. Suki hopes their expressions don’t betray the fact that they didn’t know Aang was even in the Earth Kingdom, let alone that he had taken Kai Kozu prisoner. Better to let Jun keep talking.

“You might as well tell me where he is. The second I’ve dealt with you, I’ll use my Shirshu and go find him.” She gestures with her thumb out to the courtyard, where Suki guesses her Shirshu is lying in wait, ready to strike. 

“You’re completely surrounded. We knew about that one and her fancy little feet, so we waited in the water, where she couldn’t see us. Anyway, you might as well just surrender.”

“I’m afraid that will be impossible,” Iroh says, gravely.

“You’re afraid it will be impossible? Really, old man? How are you planning to fight an entire army?”

“Have you met this young lady?” Iroh gestures with his thumb. “Her name is Toph.”

Toph smiles sweetly before striking her foot hard into the ground, making a wave on the floor which bypasses the prisoners, but knocks Jun and her guards off their feet.

“Quick,” Suki calls to them. “Everyone outside!” 

The prisoners rush the doorway, creating a bottleneck. The guards in the rear recover quickly and go on the attack, pressing the crowd forward in a panic.

“Ty Lee, with me!” Suki calls.

Ty Lee leaps high onto the metal bars of the nearest cage, using them like a ladder to climb horizontally along the wall towards the guards in the back. Then she dives, taking down two at once in a tangle of limbs. Suki follows close behind, swinging from the rafters. She uses her momentum to knock out one of the former Kyoshi warriors with a kick to the jaw.

Iroh, Mai and Katara allow the crowd to push them forward into the courtyard, where, sure enough, a whole army and a dangerous Shirshu are waiting for them. In the distance, the guards on the parapets have turned to face inward. Katara is shocked to see that there’s more than one firebender among them, probably from the Earth Kingdom colonies. They’ve combined forces with the native earthbenders to direct flaming cannonballs at the escaping prisoners. 

Behind them, the walls of the old Kyoshi headquarters explode with the sound of ten thousand elephant-rhinos. Toph is on the offense, and she isn’t holding back. Hundreds of heavy cannonballs fly back onto the ranks of Earth Kingdom soldiers. Katara winces. These aren’t the Dai Li agents of the past; these are Earth Kingdom citizens, men and women, beaten down and coerced into the service of Kai Kozu. Toph is tossing them back like they’re rag dolls. They land hard, but Katara is relieved to see that they all get up again.

Zuko doesn’t dare to firebend in case someone recognizes him. Instead he leads a group of prisoners out into the melee with his Dao swords. Many of them are excellent fighters; probably the reason they came to be locked up in the first place. They make a sizeable dent in the citizen army, despite their inferior numbers. Zuko is not surprised to see that he’s fighting alongside firebenders as well as earthbenders. Many of his citizens traveled to Ba Sing Se after the war, to study at the university and rebuild ties between the two nations. He recognizes one particularly fierce swordswoman as the daughter of his own Fire Navy officer, Commander Han.

Nearby, the Shirshu is making a nuisance of itself, taking out fighters on both sides with its poisonous tongue. Katara draws out the water from her skins and takes a step closer to it. The beast takes a shot at her, but she rolls to avoid it. She takes another tentative step forward. The next time it lashes out, she knocks its tongue aside with a crack of her water whip. As she draws closer, she notices the look in the creature’s eyes. _It’s not savage. It’s terrified._

She offers her hand for it to smell. It bridles, but she’s patient. Eventually, it comes closer and sniffs. It is not particularly friendly, but it seems to have accepted Katara’s presence, much like it has come to accept Jun. She mounts into the saddle, and takes the reins, but the animal doesn’t move. Katara groans. The Southern Water Tribe is not home to many saddled animals, unless you really want to take your chances with a polar bear dog, and she doesn’t know what to do. She decides to kick lightly, as she’s seen others do on ostrich horses. The shirshu stays put. She kicks it a little harder, but there’s no effect. 

At that moment, with a noise like a bomb exploding, Toph opens up another passage into the Crystal Catacombs—except this one is roughly the size of a sink hole. The Shirshu bolts, and at first, it is all Katara can do to hold on. After a few minutes, they slow enough so that Katara is able to pull Toph onto the saddle as they pass by.

“This is worse than riding bareback on Appa!” She cries.

The battlefield is starting to empty out now, the prisoners disappearing into the Crystal Catacombs. Meanwhile, Kai Kozu’s army is marshalling its strength, recovering after Toph’s attack. It’s time to leave, and quickly.

Katara makes another pass, helping Zuko and Mai up into the long saddle behind her. It takes all three to hoist Iroh onto the moving shirshu. Katara looks around for Suki and Ty Lee. The shirshu can only take five passengers, and it has reached its limit. Katara doesn’t see how they will be able to escape together, unless they can somehow hang on from its flanks. But Suki and Ty Lee have found a different solution. 

Somehow, they’ve found a way to climb onto Flopsie’s broad back, and are holding on for dear life. They try to nudge him down into the Crystal Catacombs, but Flopsie refuses the command, and runs instead towards the inner walls. Katara has no choice but to follow them out through the occupied city. As they pass from street to street and ring to ring, volleys of rock and fire rain down upon them from the parapets. 

Katara and Toph focus their attention on Flopsie, using their bending to knock boulders out of the air before they can land on his hapless riders. This leaves Zuko, Mai and Iroh to protect the shirshu from behind. More than once, Katara comes close to falling off, but Zuko manages to steady her hips in the saddle.

As they fly through the lower rings, the Great Gates of the outer wall begin to close. They move slowly because of their massive size. At the same movement, the portcullis that divides the market district from the outer wall begins to drop. The portcullis gate is not high, maybe eight feet tall, and guarded from above by four men. If they miss the Great Gate, there will be no escape, but if they miss the portcullis, they’ll have to go around for miles until they find the next exit. Either way, they’ll be trapped. 

.Flopsie has a good lead, and ducks under the portcullis, no problem. Katara presses the Shirshu forward just a little too hard, and it rears just as the gate clangs shut in front of them. Mai loses her grip and falls to the ground, rolling to avoid arrows from the low wall. She runs at the barrier, and scales its latticed grille like a flying lemur. The guards are too stunned to offer much resistance. Within seconds they are lying in shock on the flagstone floor. She kicks the release switch that opens the portcullis, then drops lightly back into the saddle on the other side of the gate.

Zuko looks at her with genuine admiration. He wonders if he should be just a little more scared of his girlfriend than he already is.

They’re in the final stretch now, making their way down the empty avenue between the city and the Gates. It’s all they can do to defend against the onslaught of rock and fire from the outer wall. Flopsie is a speck in the distance ahead of them, well beyond their reach… 

The gates slam shut with a sound like two mountains colliding, just as the Shirshu passes to the other side. Katara lets out a sigh of relief. Toph lets out a jubilant _whoop!_

“In your face Jun!” She yells at the city, which grows smaller and smaller behind them. They ride for miles and miles, deep into the countryside, before they are finally able to catch up with Flopsie, Suki and Ty Lee. 

“That had to be quite the experience,” Iroh says, looking at the girls’ frayed expressions and messy hair.

“It was terrible!” Suki says, breathing hard. “Even Ty Lee didn’t like it, and she likes everything.”

“It definitely wasn’t as fun as it looked,” Ty Lee admits.

“Do you think all those people will make it out okay?” Katara asks to nobody in particular. 

“They have a better chance now than they did before,” Suki says, with a shrug.

“And, it’s not like there’s anything more you can do for them.” Mai adds.

Somehow none of this comforts Katara, who slips lightly from the saddle and walks away from the group. Iroh notices and follows her to the edge of a still pond, where she stoops to refill her water skins.

“You know, you’re like my nephew, more than a little. He has trouble letting go.” 

“I don’t want to let go,” Katara says, not looking at the old man. “I want to fix it! I mean, how did we live through a hundred years of war, only to throw people in cages? What’s wrong with people!”

Iroh remains silent, giving Katara time to express the deeper feelings that he senses are lying somewhere beneath the surface.

“At first, I thought it was the war that made me feel so powerless, and once the Avatar came back, things would be alright again. Only there are still so many problems, and I still feel so powerless! If it wasn’t the war—if this is just the way the world is—I’m not sure I’m strong enough to handle it, Iroh! I think I’m just too weak.”

“It is not easy feeling for others the way that you do. That you continue to show compassion, despite everything have been through, shows great strength, not weakness.” Katara looks at him skeptically, and he sighs.

“You know, sometimes I ask Zuko, ‘what’s the best way to eat an elephant-koi?’”

Katara knots her eyebrows, still more confused. “An elephant-koi? I don’t know. Maybe with ginger sauce?”

Iroh chuckles, “I imagine that would be delicious, but I mean metaphorically. How do you take on the big problems of the world?”

Katara shrugs, looking downcast. Iroh raises her chin with a crook of his finger.  
“You do it little by little. One bite at a time.”

And suddenly Katara understands; the struggle will be a long one, but, little by little, she might make a difference. She brightens, buoyed by the old man’s kindness. She smiles and puts her arm through his. Together, they make their way back to the group gathered around the shirshu. They are discussing Aang.

“Just to play Azulon’s advocate here for a second, maybe Aang is on to something. I mean—sure—the way he went about it was weird, but hasn’t he earned our trust?”

Zuko looks thoughtfully at Suki, weighing her argument. “Maybe it is what my sister deserves after everything she’s done—lose her bending—but I’m not the one who gets to make that decision.”

“Then who is Zuko? You’re her family and her Fire Lord!”

“Jeez Suki I get it, but it doesn’t make me Agni!” Zuko glances over at the spot where Katara and Iroh are standing before he continues. “I’ve been thinking lately that people like Azula deserve a chance. If all we do is punish her, she’ll just get more angry and bitter. If we let her heal, she might do some good in the world.”

Toph looks doubtful, but Ty Lee perks up. “Yes! That’s exactly what Azula needs! She’s not a bad person, you know. At least she wasn’t at first. I remember she told me once about this time your father took her up to Ka Garr.”

“Yeah, a little father daughter bonding trip to the most heinous prison in the capital, sure.”

“Only it wasn’t a bonding trip, Zuko. Your dad told her that if she wasn’t careful, she’d wind up there. If she did exactly what she was told—if she was the perfect princess—he’d deliver the world to her on a palanquin.”

“How old was she?” Katara asks, horrified.

“She was five,” Mai says flatly.

For a few seconds, everyone watches the shirshu paw at the ground, trying to kick up a dust bath. After a minute, Toph takes pity on him and raises a cloud of dust ten feet high.

“Once, when I was still a young man, I read the Air Nation scrolls. It took nearly three years and I could not hope to understand it all. However, I can tell you that spiritbending was feared and reviled in equal measure by the Air Nomads. That could be because the writers of the ancient texts were superstitious…”

“…and it could be because the spiritbenders were the bad guys.” Toph finishes Iroh’s sentence.

“There’s a lot we don’t know.” Katara says, finally. “And we’re not going to know any more until we talk to Aang. He’s in the Earth Kingdom, after all...” From her pocket, she pulls out the heavy wooden necklace. She felt so guilty leaving it behind, but the weight of it nearly pulled her from the saddle more than once.

“This was a gift from Aang.” Katara blushes a little, trying not to look directly at Ty Lee, who has her hands clasped together under her chin as if this is the most romantic thing she’s ever seen. “I’ll bet that the shirshu can use this to track him.”

“Last one with their hand on their nose has to ride the goat gorilla!” Ty Lee yells, and Suki’s hand immediately shoots to her nose. But Katara pulls the reins over the shirshu’s head and off to the side.

“We’ll walk,” she says, firmly. “I doubt we could keep Flopsie focused enough to follow the shirshu for that long.”

They all wish the goat-gorilla well, especially Iroh, who receives a slobbery kiss that makes his hair and beard stand up on one side. There’s nothing more they can do for the creature, except let him make his own way home—wherever that may be. It’s not long before he’s running away off west, towards his native forests. Katara hopes the spirits will help him find his way.

At first the shirshu pulls so hard that it takes Katara, Zuko, and Suki’s hands, together on the reins, to slow him to a walk. Eventually, he settles into a more comfortable pace, and the group fall into a companionable silence. The hills and valleys around Ba Sing Se are a deep blueish-green, and the sky is clear and bright. 

Katara imagines what this scene would look like if they had all met in Ba Sing Se, as planned. She would be sitting in the grass next to Aang, enjoying a picnic fresh from the Jasmine Dragon. Sokka and Zuko would be sparring away down the hill—Dao swords against boomerang. Toph would make them laugh about it later, saying that the real loser is whoever has to sit downwind of them on the way back to the city.

Katara realizes with a pang of regret that today is the summer solstice— _how different it all could have been._

After a while, the shirshu starts to pull away again, and Katara can tell they’re getting close. It turns sharply up a steep hill, and everyone stumbles along behind. Katara holds on tightly to the reins, preparing herself to crest the hill and see Aang and Appa in the valley below. She says a silent prayer to all the spirits she can name that everything will come out all right in the end. With a final push she reaches the top, and looks out over the rise. Before her, crystal blue and menacing, is Lake Laogai. She gulps, wondering what exactly they will find lurking beneath the surface.


	9. Chapter 9

Aang is proud of himself for the way he executed the first step of his plan. He has four benders—well, three benders plus Caihong. They are chained in a circle, as instructed, in order of the Avatar cycle: _Fire. Air. Water. Earth._ Azula to the west, Caihong to the north, Hama to the east, Kai Kozu to the south. Their chi blockers are wearing off just enough so that he can reach their bending, but not so much that they will put up a fight. Now all that’s left is to open a portal to the Spirit World. 

He’s given this part of his plan less thought. After all, he’s done it before. Today is the Summer Solstice and he’s the Avatar; it shouldn’t be too hard. 

He is standing right in the center of a great cavern hidden miles underneath the surface of Lake Laogai. Dai Li Agents once used this place to brainwash and torture enemies of state. They had destroyed it after his friends discovered it and tried to bring it to the attention of the Earth King, but Aang was happy to find that it had been rebuilt. It’s not a very spiritual location, and Aang has to concentrate hard to bring out his past lives.

First, he calls Roku, who appears before him in a cloud of white smoke. His face is stern, and he waits for Aang to speak.

“Avatar, Roku, I need your help opening a portal to the Spirit World.”

“And why do you need to reach the Spirit World?”

“Because I’m the Avatar, and the world has fallen out of balance.”

“Don’t try to half-truth me into doing your bidding, Aang! I know you are planning to use spiritbending! You are wielding dangerous forces you do not fully understand!”

“I have a chance to bring back the Air Nation. I have to take it!”

“Aang, I am telling you now that you will not be successful in this. The odds of bringing back the Air Nation are—

“I don’t _care_ what the odds are!” Aang cries. “If there’s even the smallest chance, I have to try. This is about bringing balance back to the world— balance that the Fire Nation, _your nation_ , stole from us! Of course you won’t help me!” With a wave of his hand he dismisses Roku’s spirit. He realizes now that he needs a native Air Nomad to understand what he is trying to do. He calls fourth Avatar Yangchen and explains his plan. 

“I thought because you and I are the same that—”

“You and I are not the same, Aang. Your strict adherence to our way of life has been a detriment to others on more than one occasion. Your responsibility is to the world as it is now, not as it was a hundred years ago. You would do well do remember that.” 

Aang doesn’t need to dismiss Yangchen; she disappears of her own accord. He knows who he needs to call next, but he’s not looking forward to it. If Roku and Yangchen were unhelpful, he doubts very much that Kyoshi will be better. Once materialized, she doesn’t wait for him to speak.

“You called me once before to ask me if you should kill Fire Lord Ozai. Why call me again if you will not heed my advice?”

“Because I need your help, Kyoshi!”

“Taking Ozai’s bending has thrown you out of balance, and you are once again running away from your duties to the world.”

“No!” He shouts. “I’m doing my duty right now! I’m taking the bending of four dangerous people. That’s a victory!”

“It’s a _shortcut_ !! True justice is long and it takes time!”

“Well I don’t have time. So, are you going to help me open this portal or not?”

“I think you know that I will not.”

There’s nothing more to say after that, but when Aang dismisses Kyoshi, it’s with a sense of rising panic. _Will nobody help him? Are they all that afraid of spiritbending?_

Then, he has an idea. _But will it work?_

Shaking off his fears, Aang pictures himself standing in the hall of Avatars. Among the statues of all his past lives, his breathing starts to calm. The room is cold and damp, and the sound of his feet is muffled on the tiled floor. He begins at Roku’s statue and slowly winds outwards and upwards in a spiral. The further back he goes in the long line of Avatars, the less distinct the faces become. Finally, Aang arrives at the very last carving on the drafty edge of space, high up in the hall. The features on this statue are completely eroded. The stone is mossy and riddled with holes. Aang concentrates hard, and calls forth the spirit from the rock. 

The spectre appears, a wisp of grey smoke. Its presence is unsettling; not angry like Kyoshi, but primeval, serene, and a little malicious. Somehow, Aang understands that it’s listening to him. “ _Please._ None of the others understand what I’m trying to do, but I think that you might. I need your help opening a portal to the Spirit World, here in this room. Can you do it?”

The spectre vanishes without a word, and Aang falls to his knees, defeated. 

Then, he notices the ground beneath him is soft—too soft to be rough stone underneath Lake Laogai. He reaches down and feels grass between his fingers. Aang looks up finds himself in a cool glade, deep within a forest. He is in the Spirit World, looking up through the branches of impossibly tall trees, towards a panoply of stars. Then his vision adjusts, and he can see the roof of the stone cavern that separates him from the lake. It’s as if the two worlds have merged, and he is occupying both spaces at once. 

Caihong, Azula, Hama, and Kai Kozu are no longer chained to the floor, but bound by vines and strong branches within the glade. Behind him, hidden in a black corner of forest, is an archway of tangled vines leading still deeper into blackness. Aang knows instinctively that if he took that path, it would draw him deeper into the Spirit World than he would ever care to go.

Ordinarily, it would be impossible to bend the elements inside the Spirit World, but here on the threshold... Aang swirls his fingers in the air, conjuring a little vortex in the palm of his hand. A feeling of elation rises in his chest. He has fulfilled every element of the plan. Now he needs an airbender.

Caihong has not regained consciousness since leaving Omashu, but Aang approaches them to find that they are awake now and looking at him. A little unnerved, Aang places his hands on their head and chest, and tries to concentrate. Aang watches his body begin to glow whitish blue, just as Caihong’s turns bright yellow. Like it was with Ozai, spiritbending is a struggle, but Caihong is weak from their captivity. It’s finished in a matter of seconds. 

Aang steps back from the Caihong’s body, and tries to push a current of air from his open palm. Nothing. Aang feels the loss of his airbending like a physical blow. He wonders how Ozai has dealt with the pain of it for a whole year. Suddenly, he’s glad he’s found benders who truly deserve this loss.

Now that he has gathered all the benders together in the Spirit World, he’s ready to begin the ritual. He moves towards the first element—towards Azula—and is startled to find that she, too, has her eyes fixed on him, blinking through the fog of chi-blockers.

“I know you think I deserve this.”

“This has nothing to do with what I think,” Aang says, checking to see she is still bound tight. “I’m taking your bending so you can’t hurt anyone ever again. And I’m using it to bring back my culture, which your family destroyed.”

Azula laughs, a high, bitter laugh. “You don’t need bending to hurt people! You sound like a fool.” 

“Is that it then?” Aang roars, “You want to hurt other people and so that’s what you’re going to do? With or without bending?”

“Probably. I am a monster. That’s what my mother said, anyway. But at least I’m not like you, Avatar.”

“What are you talking about, Azula?” Aang’s temper rises.

“I’m saying you’re right—I’m not a perfect person. I’ve done awful things to good people who didn’t deserve it. But even at my worst moments, I was never like you. I never pretended that I was the good guy.”

“I _am_ the good guy. I’m the _Avatar_ .” To Aang it is a simple statement of fact, but Azula laughs at him. It makes Aang furious. 

He slips his hands under the vines that hold Azula in her place and begins to spiritbend. She fights him—hard—but in the end, it’s no use. She’s too weak from the chi blockers. When it’s all over, she falls forward in a dead faint. Aang leaves her there, caught up in the tangle of vines.

Azula was a powerful bender, and it takes Aang a minute to accept the full weight of her abilities. It’s like eating a large meal that takes time to settle. He sinks down to rest on the soft grass, overwhelmed by the power of Ozai, Azula, and his own firebending combined. Aang looks up at the vaulted ceiling under the lake—easily twice the size of the Fire Nation palace— falling somewhere between the tall trees and the canopy of stars. Without standing, without even using a proper bending form, he scorches the rough stone. Grinning widely, his eyes settle on a dense patch of forest, which obscures the tunnel to the surface of the lake. A pair of spectral blue eyes glare at him through the darkness.

“Ahhhh!” He yells, shuffling back into a defensive stance. “Katara, you scared me!”

“Good! You deserve to be scared after what you pulled! Only I’m not Katara!” Two figures emerge from behind the trees, and Aang can see that it isn’t Katara, after all.

“Sokka? Bato? What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re selling fish-hooks door to door! What do you _think_ we’re doing here?” 

Aang stares at Sokka, nonplussed.

“The reunion!” Sokka’s voice trails off. “In Ba Sing Se!—Am I ringing any bells?” 

“Oh yeah!” Aang says. “I completely forgot about that!”

“You forgot?” Sokka’s voice rises in anger and disbelief, his eyebrow twitching like a bowstring. “We spent three months on the road eating dry seal jerky and you just _forgot?_ ”

“Yeah, well, as you can see, I’ve got some stuff going on—”

 _Wham._ At that moment, a strong blast of air hits Aang between the ribs and slams him hard into the ground. He sits up, spitting out clumps of grass and wiping dirt from his tunic. At the north end of the glade, Caihong is standing, wobbling on their scraggly legs. Apparently, a single gust of air is all they have in them. A second later, their knees buckle and they collapse in a dead faint. Sokka and Bato watch, mouths hanging open.

“What exactly is going on here, buddy? Was that airbending!? And who are all these people?”

“That’s the Fire Nation princess— _Azula,_ ” Bato says, noticing the woman on the ground. “I saw her once when she visited Kaa Garr.”

“And that’s Hama, the blood bender! Aang, what are you doing?”

Aang looks from Sokka to Bato to Sokka again, and gulps. He didn’t want to be disturbed during the ritual. That’s why he chose Lake Laogai. He’s not exactly sure how Sokka and Bato will react to what they are about to witness, so he lies.

“Just some project Katara has been working on. These people are all criminals, and I’m supposed to take their bending away. See?” Aang puts his hand into position on Caihong’s chest and forehead, drawing his lost airbending back into his body. 

“Aang, what are you doing? That was an _airbender_ . You know, the kind that went _extinct_ ? How could you take their bending?”

Aang shrugs. “They were responsible for the death of King Bumi. Taking their airbending seemed fair.”

“The Earth King is dead?” Bato asks, shocked.

“Okay, Aang, we’re getting a lot of new information here. Can you just sit down for a minute, and tell us _what in the name of Hei Bai’s mustache is going on here?!_ ”

“Sorry Sokka!” Aang flashes his most winning smile. “I’m in a bit of a hurry to get this done. Why don’t you and Bato wait outside. Then I’ll take you both to Ba Sing Se, and I’ll explain everything on the way.”

Aang hopes he sounds convincing, because he _really_ doesn’t have time to explain Earth Kingdom politics to Sokka and Bato right now. Hama and Kai Kozu are already beginning to stir. In a few minutes the chi blocker will have worn off completely.

Sokka’s eyes narrow. “You said this is all Katara’s idea?”

“Yeah!” Aang says brightly. “You can ask her yourself when we get back to the capital.

“Or you could ask her now,” Toph’s voice echoes out of the tunnel behind him. Together as a group, Toph, Suki, Ty Lee, Mai, Iroh, Zuko, and Katara, run out into the clearing.

“He’s lying to you, Sokka.” Katara says, a little out of breath.

“Yeah, I figured that out when I saw his fingers crossed behind his back,” Sokka admits. “It’s kind of a dead giveaway.”

“I can’t help it!” Aang flushes, “The monks taught me to be honest.”

“Yeah, well, the monks must have been lousy at poker.”

“Azula!” Zuko breaks from the group and rushes to the nearest body on the ground. He pulls his sister into his arms, where she lies limp and unresponsive. “Agni, she’s not breathing! Aang, what did you do to her?”

Aang looks around at nine troubled, angry faces. “Nothing, I—”

 _Wham!_ This time the attack comes from behind, as Hama breaks her captivity. The dehydrated vines that held her shrivel away into nothingness, and she knocks Aang to his knees with a torrent of water. Recovering quickly, Aang rises into the air, trying to escape the old waterbender. He lands lightly on a branch, halfway to the ceiling. 

It’s not the full moon, but Hama can still use her vile technique on the trees. As she draws water down, out through the roots, the trunk blackens and cracks, and Aang can feel himself begin to sway dangerously back and forth on the branch. Katara goes on the offensive, sweeping Hama’s legs out from underneath her with a water whip while she is focused on Aang. Then Ty Lee is standing above her, bringing her hands down towards the muscles and tendons that control the old woman’s chi paths. Aang dives. He can’t let Ty Lee block Hama’s bending; it would make it impossible for him to spiritbend, and it would ruin the ritual.

Unbalanced by his sudden movement, the tree gives a final lurch and snaps at the base of the trunk. It lands heavily, sending a great tremor up and down the walls of the cavern, followed by the ominous sound of cracking stone…

“Look out!” Toph cries, as the wall splits and the ceiling begins to crumble. Massive stones land on the grass, as tall and as wide as Bato. Toph raises her arms and presses against the force of gravity to keep the room from collapsing around them. “Not to freak anyone out,” she says, “but this whole place is going to be underwater again in less than ten minutes!”

In the chaos, Kai Kozu cuts his bonds with his black dagger. Suki catches him furtively picking his way through the undergrowth towards the exit tunnel. “That’s Kai Kozu!” She shouts. “That’s the traitor who conquered Ba Sing Se.”

“He did what now?!” Sokka asks.

“There’s no time to explain! Just follow me.”

Sokka and Bato look at each other confounded, but allow Suki to lead them around the clearing to a spot by the tunnel entrance, where Kai Kozu is exiting the woods. Kai Kozu doesn’t try to talk, or win them over with his charm; he grabs his black dagger in one hand and lowers himself into a bending stance. 

Suki rushes him, immediately taking a blow to the chest from a column of rock. Sokka moves to defend her and catches the edge of Kai Kozu’s dagger with his forearm. He pulls away bleeding, but Suki is up again. Her fists connect with Kai Kozu’s jaw before she jumps back, away from the reach of the black dagger.

Maybe it’s all the time and distance between them, but Sokka and Suki’s next move is disastrously out of sync. Suki stays low while Sokka goes in for a high kick, and it takes little effort for Kai Kozu to swing around and bring Sokka crashing down onto her. In that instant, Bato moves to subdue Kai Kozu from behind, reaching his arm around the other man’s neck. But Kai Kozu is too quick for him. Sensing movement, he whirls, catching Bato right in the middle of the chest with the point of his dagger. 

A second later, the dagger is back in Kai Kozu’s hand, and Sokka hopes he just imagined the blade penetrating so deeply into his chest. But, no. A red stain blossoms on Bato’s tunic like a fire lily. Sokka untangles himself from Suki and rushes to Bato’s side. The man sinks to his knees. “Katara!!” He calls. “Katara, Bato’s been hurt! Come—” But the word “quick,” catches in his throat, as he realizes with a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that it’s already too late. Bato is gone. Tears well up in Sokka’s eyes, and he rushes Kai Kozu, enraged. He doesn’t bother with space swords or boomerangs; he attacks the other man with his fists.

Kai Kozu is smart. He waits patiently for Sokka to come closer, feinting like he’s about to use his dagger. At the last moment, he pivots, bringing his heel around in a roundhouse kick. The stone he pulls from the earth swings in a deadly arc to broadside Sokka, who is not fast enough to dodge. Suki can see by its trajectory that it will connect with his head, and killing him instantly. Operating on her instincts as a Kyoshi warrior, she steps forward, taking the brunt of the attack against her neck and spine. 

Sokka hears a sickening _crack_ . Suki’s body slams violently against his, then crumples to the ground beside broken pieces of stone. Kai Kozu wastes no time; he turns and splashes back up the corridor, away from the cavern under Lake Laogai and into the light. Sokka yearns to chase after him, but Suki needs his help. She is lying at such an awkward angle, legs and arms splayed in unnatural ways.

Sokka peers back into the clearing. Zuko and Iroh are still busy with Azula, and Aang has beaten back Katara, Mai, and Ty Lee for control over Hama. He is standing over her in the spirtbending stance. Sokka can see that Aang’s glow is no longer the pure, cool light it had been when defeated Ozai. Now it’s darker, redder, almost rust colored. Hama’s is a steely grey. Katara and Mai try to approach, but they are knocked backward by the force of his spiritbending. All they can do is wait. For a moment it looks like Hama might wrest control, but in the end, Aang takes her bending, too. 

“Katara!” Sokka yells across the clearing. “He’s too powerful. We’ve gotta get out of here before we wind up at the bottom of the lake!”

“Not yet, Sokka!” Katara shouts back, barely dodging a water whip the size of a sea serpent. 

“Suki’s been hurt!”

“Then take her somewhere safe! We’ll catch up to you!”

Sokka looks at the entryway and hesitates. Suki needs him—but he can’t leave just yet. Fishing Bato’s cudgel out from the water, he stoops beside the fallen warrior. There is no time to read all the rites, so Sokka picks the most important lines and prays to the spirits that it’s enough. Then, he takes the cudgel and slips it under Bato’s still-warm fingers. He closes the old warrior’s eyes. Bato looks younger now than he did before—less haunted. The rising tide of water fans his hair out behind his head. 

In the old songs, warriors made promises to their fallen brothers. They always sounded so poetic to Sokka, who imagined the brave words he would speak one day over some fallen comrade. But, now, Sokka realizes what a fool he had been. He is barely able to make his vow through the tears.

“I, S-Sokka son of Hakoda, promise you, Bato, that one day, I will t-take the black dagger from Kai Kozu, and I will throw it into the ocean.” 

Sokka wipes his eyes, unsure what to do next. The rites are done, but he feels like he’s leaving something unfinished. He takes one last look at Katara, who is trying to stop Aang long enough for Ty Lee to block his bending. He says one last prayer—this time to his mother’s spirit—to get her through the fight. Then he gathers Suki gently in both arms and runs into the tunnel. Katara watches him go with a wave of relief. 

“Kataraaa!” Toph calls through clenched teeth. “I can’t hold on much longer!”

“I know you can do it!” Ty Lee calls. “Hang in there!” 

“I don’t want to hurt any of you!” Aang pleads. “Just let me take Kai Kozu’s bending and then this will all be done!”

“I hate to tell you this, Aang, but Kai Kozu is gone! He escaped!” Mai says, sounding angrier than Katara has ever heard her. “Your plan failed. Give up!”

“No…” Aang says, more to himself than the rest of the group. “No, that’s not possible! The Air Nation…” His eyes settle on Toph, and he realizes it’s not over. Not yet, anyway. _It’s a cruel thing to do her,_ he thinks. _But it would only be for a minute. I would give her bending back right away. It’s not like I’d keep it or anything. I just need to borrow it long enough to bring back the airbenders. Toph will understand…eventually._

Aang takes a step towards her, his hopes renewed.

Zuko’s attention had been focused entirely on Azula since he found her body on the ground. Even the rising tide of water barely registered on the edge of his consciousness. Uncle learned plenty of first aid during his time on the battlefield, but his techniques are primitive, and Zuko wishes Katara were here with him, instead. After a minute of Uncle’s haphazard blows to the back, Azula begins to breathe again—jagged, uneven breaths. And in a few minutes her eyes are open. She blinks at him, and he can sense something between them that he had never felt before. _Gratitude? Love?_ She opens her mouth to speak, and he leans in closer.

“Are you blind, Zuko? Look behind you!”

Aang is making his way towards Toph with a gleam in his eye that Zuko doesn’t like. He’s never seen Aang look so _predatory_ before—like a wolfbat. Stepping forward, he tries to shield Toph with his body, but Aang knocks him aside with a gust of air. Zuko slams hard into the trunk of the fallen tree, and does not stir. 

The water around Toph’s feet obscures her vision like a heavy fog, so she doesn’t see it coming. In one quick movement, Aang’s hands are on her head and chest, pushing her down to knees in the water. They start to glow. Toph’s aura the same pale green as her eyes. Toph is strong—she may be the strongest bender in the world—but she’s still trying to hold the ceiling together, and Aang now has the combined strength of five. It’s no contest. 

Toph collapses face first into the water, and with one final crack, the ceiling collapses. Currents of water rush in from all sides, pulling everyone apart. Sucking tides begin to draw the water in two directions: out of the tunnel towards the surface of the lake, and into the inky black void at the edges of the clearing. Katara can control the currents just enough direct some of her friends out through the tunnel. She watches Toph, Azula, and Hama slip through first. Ty Lee swims after them. Katara can only hope Ty Lee will be able to help the others to safety. 

_But there are still people missing!_ Katara thinks. Where is Zuko. Where are Aang and Mai and Iroh? She’s swimming now, in the rising water, and the current begins to pull her towards the black door. She knows intuitively that she’d rather drown than pass through that door, and she reaches out for a tree branch, clinging to it for dear life. Four bodies float pass past her, caught in the savage current. Katara is just close enough to reach out and grab the last one by the collar. She pulls them in, cradling their chest above the water, and watches, horrified, as the three other bodies slip one by one into the Spirit World. 

As soon as the waterline rises past the upper limit of both doors, the sucking noise stops and the currents subside. Katara is able to loosen her grip on the tree branch, but she’s alarmed to see how quickly the water level continues to rise towards the ceiling. She looks down at the body in her arms and finds strings of Zuko’s inky black hair swirling in the water and clinging to her arms. So— she thinks— _I saved Zuko. And Mai, Iroh, and Aang went through the door—spirits help them._

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, she remembers that there had been one more person trapped under the lake—the airbender. Aang had tied them up in the clearing, and they were probably still down there. Katara tries to guess how long they’ve been under water. It’s been at least five minutes. They won’t be able to last much longer—if they’re even still alive.

Katara quickly wraps a vine around Zuko’s chest to keep him afloat. Then she dives, cutting through through the clear blue water to the bottom of the lake like an arctic seal. It’s eerie, swimming through the completely submerged patch of forest. Nothing has changed—the grass, the trees, they’re all still there— but there is a feeling of timelessness about the place now, an effect of the diffused, blueish light of the unnatural stars.

It’s a long way down to the place where the airbender is trapped, and the ties that bind them are pulled tight. Katara tries to freeze them off, but the they are impervious to the cold. Panic sets in. She only has a few more seconds before she must return to the surface for air. But what else can she do? Frustrated and desperate, she bends the water from the vines, just as Hama did. They crumble under her fingers and she pulls the airbender free. 

Katara kicks frantically upwards, but they rise slowly, dragged down by the weight of Aang’s necklace in her pocket. Katara tries to get rid of it, but it’s tangled up too badly in the wet folds of her clothes. They are an arm’s length from the surface, Katara can see the light of the spirit world stars. Then her vision begins to blur.

Zuko’s hand plunges into the water, reaching out for Katara. She grabs his hand, and he pulls her to the surface. He looks at her, panic stricken, and dripping wet.

“Agni, Katara! I saw you go under, but I didn’t know why.”

“The airbender,” Katara explains through jagged breaths. “They were underwater for a really long time. I don’t know if they’re even alive.”

“And the others? What about Azula and my uncle?”

“Azula went out through the tunnel.”

“And Uncle?” 

“Your uncle went through the black door with Mai and Aang—I’m so sorry Zuko! I don’t know where it leads.”

“The Spirit World.” Zuko’s voice is hard. “It leads into the Spirit World; I felt it the minute I saw it.”

“Yes,” Katara admits. “I felt it too. But there’s still hope! They might find their way out again! Sokka did!” She leaves out the fact that Sokka’s journey took him through much friendlier places than the black door. 

“I should go after them,” Zuko says, dully, and for a moment Katara is scared she’ll have to fight him on this, too—that she’ll have to drag him away from the black door, keep the airbender’s head above water, and somehow find a way to the surface of the lake, all on her own. The idea makes her feel numb all over, and the airbender slips a little in her arms. Zuko looks at her, concerned.

“I won’t though,” he says. “Not until you and the airbender are safe, at least.” 

Katara can’t stop herself from shedding a few tears. If she’d been standing on dry land, she might have kissed him. As it is, she gives his hand a grateful squeeze. Zuko’s look of concern deepens.

“I don’t see how we’re going to make it out of this, though. Can you get us back through the tunnel?”

Katara shakes her head, no. “And we can’t go through the black door, either. But if we stay here the water will fill up the cavern and we’ll drown.”

“What about those cracks in the ceiling? Can we get out that way?”

Katara shakes her head again. “That’s where the water is coming in from the lake! It’s too powerful for me to bend.” 

“But what about the cavern fills up? Won’t the pressure stop?”

Katara’s eyes widen. “Zuko, yes! You’re a genius! Once the water has nowhere left to go, the pressure will reverse. We can use it to propel us to the surface of the lake!”

Zuko stares at her. “What?” she grins. “It’s not like Sokka’s the only one in the family who can come up with a plan.”

With that, Katara hands the airbender to Zuko and bends the water around them up and overhead, creating a pocket of air. It’s hard to balance inside the little bubble, and Zuko almost slips out more than once. He realizes, watching the airbender, that the trick is to lie as still as possible and float on the water underneath. They wait breathlessly as the last corners of the cavern fill up.

Suddenly, the pressure shifts, pushing the bubble up towards one of the cracks in the ceiling. The bubble warps a little as they pass through it, and Zuko has to roll to avoid being impaled on against the sharp jutting rock. Once they pass through the fissure, they come out at the bottom of the lake itself, with miles to go before they reach the surface. 

They rise quickly, riding on the strong current escaping from the cavern. All around them, the lake is filled with Spirit World stars—millions of them—burning brightly under the water. Zuko watches, mesmerized by the sight. He turns to look at Katara, grinning. Her is face awash in starlight. She smiles faintly back at him, but her attention returns quickly to her waterbending. Zuko can see the strain on her body as she pushes away the weight of a hundred thousand pounds of water. He imagines it must be like trying to stop a volcano. She’s beautiful, he realizes, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Zuko wishes there was something— _anything_ —that he could do to help her, but the further up they travel, the more her exhaustion shows.

Finally, she can hold out no longer. She collapses—all her energy spent. The pocket of air disappears around them as quickly as a bubble popping at the edge of a teacup. Zuko has no idea how far they have to go, but the water is cold—too cold to be anywhere near the surface of the lake in summertime. Moving quickly, he takes hold of Katara in one arm and the airbender in the other and kicks hard in the direction of the sunlight above—away from the stars below. Zuko is a strong swimmer. Still, the surface is at least two hundred feet up. _Katara could do it_ —he thinks— _but I can’t_ . He wishes in that moment that he were anything but a firebender— _the only thing I can do is make the water a little hotter._

Then he remembers something Sokka told him once talking about the war balloon: _it goes up because warm air rises._ Zuko wonders if the same thing might be true of water. He stops kicking for a minute and focuses his energy. Then, he kicks out again, this time with bending. Hot water propels them upward. In three strokes they rise thirty feet, but they aren’t out of danger yet. Zuko feels the tightness around his lungs that comes from rising too quickly. He gives it a few seconds before he tries again. At last, he breaks the surface with a cry of pain and triumph. Dripping and utterly spent, they reach the shore.

Caihong recovers first—rising up to their knees and rubbing their head, trying to remember what happened to them. They notice Zuko and Katara laying side by side in the sand. Caihong doesn’t have the heart to separate them, so they maneuver a little awkwardly around the tangle of limbs, bringing fresh water to clean their cuts. 

It’s nearly sunset by the time Sokka tracks them down on Appa. By that time, Katara and Zuko are awake. Sokka sinks down and weeps with the relief at finding his sister alive, and it’s at least twenty minutes before he’s calm enough to tell his side of the story: 

“Well, I got Suki out all right,” he begins. “I did my best for her, and she’s okay, I guess. I mean, she’s alive, but there’s something…wrong. It’s like the whole right side of her body went limp, and her face is stiff, too. She’s sitting up, now, and talking. Azula’s with her. Oh—Azula’s okay, too! Except that she bandaged my arm, and she’s been taking really good care of everyone. Is that weird? I feel like that’s weird.”

Zuko shrugs. After everything they’ve been through today, Azula could start waterbending and he wouldn’t bat an eye.

“Anyway, a few minutes after Suki and I came up, we heard this massive crash, which Ty Lee said was the ceiling giving in. I went back into the tunnel and got Azula and Hama. Toph came up with Ty Lee and—oh boy—Toph’s not good. Without her earthbending, she’s blind—like, blind, blind. I think she’s okay physically, but I can’t get her to talk. It doesn’t help that Hama’s gone crazy—well—crazier. She keeps shouting at her because she couldn’t keep the roof up—as if that’s what mattered after everything… after Bato… and we thought you and Zuko, too…”

His voice trails off and he chokes back a sob. Katara puts her arms around her brother, smoothing back his hair the way their mother used to do when he was scared or upset.

“It’s just that Bato wouldn’t have even _been_ here if it weren’t for me. _I_ was the one who made such a big deal about coming to the Earth Kingdom. It was so selfish.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” Katara says, iron in her heart. She knows who is to blame for all of this, and it isn’t her brother. She turns to look at Zuko, standing a few paces away. He has tears in his eyes, too. 

“Here,” she says, holding her hand out to Sokka, “give me the rest of your seal jerky.”

“Okay…” he says, “but it’s pretty stale.”

“It’s perfect,” she says. 

Waving aside her brother’s confusion, for a few moments, Katara is a whirlwind of activity: collecting shells, testing them gently on the water, and filling them with the crustiest bits of seal jerky. Finally, she hands one each to Zuko, Sokka, and Caihong, keeping one for herself.

“They’re votives,” she explains to Zuko and Caihong. “Floating lights we put out on the water to honor those we’ve lost. Will you light them for us?” she asks Zuko.

He nods slowly and illuminates each one in turn, regarding Katara as he does so with profound gratitude. They set the votives down one by one on the lake, and Katara pushes them gently out into the gathering darkness. The light of the candles mingles with the glow of the stars shining brightly now, above and below the lake. The four of them stand shoulder to shoulder, remembering each of their fallen friends in turn. 

Sokka and Katara think mostly of Bato, who was like a second father to them. They remember the days he would take them in his kayak, and how they would go out farther than their father would ever allow. They remember playing with the icicles in his beard, pretending they were spears. They remember the quick and easy way he would laugh in the days before he went to war.

Zuko thinks a little of Mai—how he would miss spending time with her, and what he would say to her family—but mostly he thinks of his uncle. His grief is overwhelming, and after a minute he sinks to his knees; praying for some miracle to bring them both safely out of the Spirit World.

Only Caihong thinks almost entirely of Aang. They bear him no ill will for what happened to them. In fact, they thank him—one member of the Air Nation to another—for the few hours they were able to spend in community. They look heavenward and pray for the kindest, gentlest spirits to guide Aang’s steps back to the physical world—back home, where he belongs. But somewhere—deep within their heart—Caihong knows that this is the last the world will see of the Avatar for a long, long time…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! That's the end of part one. Part two needs a rewrite, but is mostly ready to go. Editors are very, very much appreciated, so please, please leave a comment with suggestions! I'll even take spelling mistakes; I know I didn't catch all of them! <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right--I caved. Here's the first chapter of part two! ❀❀❀

**PART 2**

Just like every other day, Katara is awake at the crack of dawn, before the birds even begin to sing. The weather is unseasonably hot this for this time of year on Ember Island. The grannies, who like to gather outside the big tea shop in town, say that it’s Agni’s Breath—a once-every-ten-year wind—that’s keeping the weather so warm this late into the fall. Local legend says that Agni’s Breath brings powerful ancient spirits to stir up the emotions and cause trouble for people. Katara suspects that the oppressive heat would cause tempers to flare up on the island, anyway, with or without the spirits’ help. 

Sitting up in bed, she can already feel the sweat pooling around the curves of her back. She doubts if she got even two hours of sleep. Half awake, she bends herself a bath so cold it almost freezes, pins back her hair, and sinks low in the water. 

For the most part Katara is happy with her life on Ember Island, although she dreads Zuko’s visits. Going on five years now—ever since he lost his uncle at Lake Laogai—he comes once a week to see Azula; more if his schedule allows. It is only a short trip from the Fire Nation Capital, especially if Katara can spare Appa for an hour. 

It wasn’t always this way between them. His visits used to be something she could look forward to during the long, punishing work week. In those days, he came early, and by the afternoon Azula was usually sick of him, and sent him away so that she could take a nap. Then, Zuko would join Katara for tea—just the two of them—in her office or somewhere overlooking the water. At first, they talked mostly about Katara’s work. Zuko was particularly interested in the experimental techniques she was using for long-term rehabilitation, like Suki’s leg brace or Toph’s cane. Soon, Zuko was coming to her for advice on thorny political issues, and she loved to watch his face light up when she was able to find a new solution or offer a unique perspective on a problem. They spoke a language of shared ideas, and ideals, and _really_ lame jokes.

Then, about a year ago, Zuko announced his engagement to mark the fifth anniversary of his coronation. Katara had seen it coming. In a relationship of some years—like his—marriage was the usually the next natural step. Zuko avoided discussing it with her, before or after the announcement, and every time she mentioned the wedding or his bride, he would turn the subject back to Azula, somehow. Katara tried not to act any differently around him, but the easy companionship that existed between them cooled and became awkward. Still, his visits remained consistent: every week, like clockwork. _And it’s not as I can stop him from coming_ , she thinks, mutinously. _The house belongs to him._

Oddly, Zuko sent a letter ahead of today’s visit. He had never done that before. The letter was simple; it stated his arrival time and asked that the group from Lake Laogai assemble in the dining hall. Katara could tell by the way he smudged the ink that he wrote in a state of high emotion. The weird part was, they would all travel to the Fire Nation Capital for his wedding, anyway, and that was only a month away. What could possibly be so important it couldn’t wait one month? _Maybe the Sons of Azulon are after him again, and he wants us to protect Azula._

But Katara shakes her head as she steps out of the bath. _If that were the case, then wouldn’t he have put it in his letter?_ The last time the Sons moved against him was at a New Year’s celebration a few months ago, when an assassin overturned his parade float. Luckily, Zuko was unharmed, but his private guard landed on Ember Island minutes after the fact. If it was happening again, surely Katara would already know about it. 

Katara stares down her closet for a full minute. She tries hard not to think about what she’s wearing or how she styles her hair on the days that Zuko comes. She doubts very much that Zuko cares what he has on when he sees her, and it irks her that she should care so much where he does not. The things she owns are not extravagant nor are they expensive. What little money she does put aside goes towards supplies, new medical journals, and extra help where they can afford it. She has one nice dress, which she bought from the fancy tourist boutique downtown on her last birthday. She slips it on, puts a braid in her hair, and in ten minutes she is out the door—ready to face another day.

In the smoky light cast by the kitchen fire, Katara concocts a number of medicinal teas, each carefully measured out for a specific individual. Then, she gathers her other supplies: fresh bundles of acupuncture needles hot from the fire, an apron, and her old medicine bag. When she’s finished, the sun is up, and she begins her rounds.

The wooden porch that snakes around the rooms in back of the estate is old and creaky. Katara appreciates the familiar way the boards give a little under her feet and the wheels of the teacart. She doesn’t think too often about the time they spent hiding out here before Aang’s final battle with Ozai, but when she does, she thinks about sitting here on the porch, watching Aang and Zuko firebend. She stops in front of the first door on her left, and picks up a tray of gingko leaf and lemon balm.

As usual, Toph is up and dressed, waiting patiently for Katara to arrive. She sits straight-backed at the little table looking out over the courtyard. Toph never cared about the way she looked before, but since the loss of her bending, she dresses with precision. There is never a pleat or hair out of place, in spite of the pressing island heat. It’s a level of perfection Katara suspects only Azula can truly appreciate. 

They exchange “good mornings,” and Katara lays the tray on the table. The room is simple. Unlike the other residents, Toph refuses to personalize it in any way. It would look uninhabited, if it weren’t for the collection of walking sticks she keeps beside the door. 

“What time did Zuko say he would be here again?”

“Sometime in the afternoon,” Katara says distractedly, scooping fresh papaya onto a plate. “Caihong’s making something special for dinner.”

Toph pulls a face. “I wish they’d stop. Can’t you afford to hire a cook?”

Katara smiles a little. When she and Caihong first set up the house on Ember Island, they divided the work evenly. Growing up wealthy, Caihong never learned to cook, but they took to it with all the native enthusiasm of a turtle duck to water—mixing spices and culinary styles in new and truly revolting ways. They loved to cook so much that Katara let them take control of the kitchen for lunch and dinner—making sure to give everyone a little extra at breakfast.

“Why do you think Zuko’s being so weird about getting us all together anyway? You don’t thing he’s bringing _her_ , do you?

“No,” Katara says handing her the teacup. “We’ve been here for five years, and she’s never come before.”

“It’s because she thinks she’s too good for us. Always did.”

Katara thinks Toph is being a little unfair, but she doesn’t want to argue the point. For one thing, thinking about Zuko is starting to give her a headache. For another, Toph refuses to eat around other people, anymore, and a long conversation would just disturb her breakfast. 

The next door is Suki’s. She raps loudly on the frame, and a muffled voice bids her enter. She’s not surprised to see that Azula has wandered in overnight and is now curled up like a housecat on the divan. Although the friendship between the two women confused everyone at first, as time wore on, they began to accept it as part of the fabric of life on Ember Island. As Toph is fond of saying, “they understand each other’s demons,” and Katara thinks that’s probably true.

Unfortunately, none of their demons are very tidy. Katara picks her way across books, jars of makeup, and piles of letter paper to push open the curtains. 

“Good morning.” Suki yawns and rubs her eyes.

Azula hides her head under her pillow. “Is that Katara? Tell her if she doesn’t let me sleep, I’ll set her bedroom on fire.”

“Empty threat I’m afraid,” Suki says, stretching out the left side of her body and gently shaking the other girl awake.

“I don’t need firebending to burn this place to the ground, just watch.”

Suki rolls her eyes. “Uh huh. You’re terrifying.”

Katara spends longer with Suki than she did with Toph, running through a list of exercises and measuring her movements.

“That’s better than last month, isn’t it?” Azula asks over Katara’s shoulder. “The right arm is definitely getting better.”

Katara rubs her eyes and answers noncommittally. Azula always sees improvements, no matter what the data says. 

“How’s your balance?” Katara asks.

“Better!” Suki says brightly. “I had a bad fall a few days ago, but that’s the first one in a long time. With my leg brace, I sometimes feel like I could climb a mountain. I’m even training again! Simple forms, but still.”

“She’s being modest.” Azula says. “Yesterday she took me down, and I _don’t_ take it easy on her.”

For some reason, Suki looks a little flustered, and Katara wonders if it has something to do with her secret life on Ember Island—the part Katara isn’t supposed to know about—involving coded letters from the Earth Kingdom and secret meetings in the dead of night. 

Katara’s operations here on the island aren’t funded by the Fire Nation; Zuko’s ministers were angry enough when he gave her the house. Still, it wouldn’t be good if the public found out that the whole Earth Kingdom resistance effort was being run from this very room. Technically, the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom are still at peace, and the scandal might cost Zuko the crown. He allows her to carry on, but very discreetly. 

Azula’s eyes flick up and down over Katara’s dress. “You look very nice,” she says with a hint of the old malice in her voice. “Is my brother on his way, yet?”

“I’m not sure,” Katara says, feeling her face grow hot. “I sent Appa over yesterday so he wouldn’t have to rush in the morning.”

Azula takes a sip of tea, her lip curling upward. “That’s so…sweet.” 

Suki takes a slipper off the ground and throws it at Azula to shut her up. It flies wide, but the fact that she threw it with her right hand distracts Azula, who half-teases and half-encourages her to try it again. The ensuing firefight is enough for Katara to make her escape. 

Passing the last room on the east side of the veranda, Katara shivers. Hama, too, lived on Ember Island for almost a year after the loss of her bending. She spent most of her time just outside her door, threatening to annihilate unsuspecting tourists who wandered onto the property. At first, Katara encouraged her to engage with some of the older residents; many of them were lonely and far from home. But Hama didn’t want to engage. She died eight months later, as vile and mean spirited as ever she was. 

Her death came as a relief to Katara, who quickly filled her room with a pleasant local man who had become forgetful in his old age, then with a Water Tribe child who suffered from spasms. Today, the room stands empty. Although it’s been many years since Hama lived there, Katara can’t pass the doorframe without a prickle of fear and uncertainty. Her thoughts take her to dark places… She thinks about Zuko and the Sons of Azulon. She thinks about her grandmother, and how papery thin her skin has become these past few years. She thinks of Sokka, somewhere off the coast of the Earth Kingdom in a Fire Nation battleship. She thinks of the black door leading deep into the Spirit World. The thought makes her shiver in the heat.

In passing, Katara glimpses at the sundial in the courtyard. She’s running a little early today and decides to sit and rest for a minute by the fountain. The headache that began earlier is threatening to overwhelm her. She stands there for a moment letting cool water run over her hands and wrists. 

Then she turns to look out over the garden, and remembers that night, about two years ago, when Sokka encouraged a few of the residents to hold a talent show. He was on shore leave for a few days and was looking for any excuse to bust out his repertoire of sea shanties. It took all day, but he managed to build an entire stage out in the garden. Then—clearly trying to impress Suki—he hung hundreds of lanterns in the trees, so that when everyone assembled at twilight, the garden was suffused with the gentle candlelight.

In one of the miracles of Suki and Azula’s friendship, Suki convinced the princess to perform. Nobody knew what to expect, but her name was there on the list just after Caihong’s magic act. Then the music started, and all the residents watched wide-eyed as Azula and Zuko heel-toed their feet across the courtyard to the _oom-pah_ of a tsungi horn. When they finished, everyone laughed and clapped and crowded around Azula. Her face was flushed. Katara had never seen her look so happy.

Zuko slipped through the crowd and found Katara immediately. “So, what do you think of the hot foot shuffle?” He asked in a confident tone that didn’t quite hide his embarrassment.

“I’ll bet that’s how you impress all the ladies,” she said, smirking. 

“No, just you,” he whispered with a profound look in his eyes. 

She held his gaze, and waited for him to speak. Instead, he leaned in closer and extended a hand. She took it, not knowing what to expect. Eagerly, he pulled her up on the stage for a group rendition of the hot foot shuffle.

Today, it seems like someone else’s memory; not hers. She wishes her head would stop pounding. There are still five more patients to see before Zuko’s arrival this afternoon. She allows herself one final moment to look out over the garden, then marches to the next room.

By the time Katara finishes her rounds, it’s almost mid-day, and she’s starving. She heads back to the kitchen to return her supplies and to grab something for breakfast, herself. Caihong is already there, preparing lunch. The kitchen is so hot that the air from the stove rises in waves, but Caihong doesn’t seem to mind. They are grinning broadly over a pot of boiling noodles, bubbling over like a failed science experiment. 

“I’m almost done here,” they say, fishing out the suspiciously undercooked noodles and plopping them into a pan of red curry. “Just in time, too. The Fire Lord should be here any minute!”

Katara’s head snaps up. “What did you say?”

“The Fire Lord—? Didn’t his note say he’d be here for lunch?” Caihong steps away from their cooking and pulls two letters out of the correspondence desk in the hall. Katara snatches the first one out of their hand. Sure enough, Zuko had written _lunch_ in his familiar, messy scrawl. There’s a little smudge above the word which Katara mistook for a part of the character.

“I thought he said dinner!” Katara’s heart thumps as she fumbles with the knot of her apron. Caihong moves to help her untie it, but somehow manages to knock the pan of noodles all down the front of her dress, staining it red.

“Hog monkeys!” she exclaims. “Bleeding hog monkeys!”

It takes a minute before Caihong can calm the steady stream of curses. When they do, they speak in same calm tone they use on the residents. “Breathe, Katara. Inhale…Exhale… Now, you won’t be able to wear this dress today, but I’ll wash it for you. And I’m buying you a new one, too. You deserve more than one nice dress. You still have a little bit of time to go and change before he gets here. Would that make you feel better?”

Katara nods and Caihong pulls her in for a quick hug. At first Katara had been wary of Caihong, not knowing what crimes they had committed to earn a place beside Hama and Kai Kozu. Now, she can’t imagine life without them. 

“Oh, and there’s one more thing to cheer you up! Mail came early this morning and this was right at the top of the pile.” They hold out a thick envelope sealed with the impression of her grandmother’s betrothal necklace. She smiles widely. _Maybe today won’t be so bad after all._

Katara flies back to her room, shuts the door, and eagerly rips open the letter. It begins in her grandmother’s spidery handwriting, but finishes with a message from her father. Her eyes travel over the words twice before she realizes what she’s reading. This is the thing she’s been dreading since her last visit to the Southern Water Tribe. 

Her throat tightens and she struggles to breathe. The letter slips from her fingers and falls lightly to the floor. Tears well up in her eyes. She can’t believe it. How can her grandmother be _gone?_ She looks down at the letter, but can’t bear to pick it up again. Her body feels heavy and numb. The hot curry that spilled on her dress soaks through to her legs and ankles, burning them a little. She doesn’t care. She stands there leaning against her bedroom door for what feels like hours. 

Her father doesn’t want her to come home to the Southern Water Tribe. The trip around the Earth Kingdom islands is just too dangerous. He does want her to tell Sokka what happened the next time he visits Suki. She tries to imagine the conversation in her head, but quickly gives up. Her headache is worse than ever, and all she wants to do is lie down, close her eyes, and forget everything. 

Then, as if from a distance, she hears Appa land in the courtyard, and she knows that Zuko is here. For the first time in twelve months, she’s glad he’s come. She wants to go out into the courtyard and throw herself into his arms. He won’t care about the sweat on her upper lip or the curry on her dress. He’ll lean down and whisper in her ear that everything is going to be okay. It’s true that he’s engaged; he’s getting married in a month. But he’s also her best friend, and she needs him today.

She throws open her bedroom door, runs down the hall and out onto the courtyard. It’s sweltering hot away from the shade of the porch, and she throws a hand up to see clearly in the bright sunshine. Zuko is busy handing Appa’s reins to an orderly. He’s in the same informal traveling clothes he usually wears to Ember Island, and his hair is as shaggy as it always is without a topknot. Katara had expected him to look different, somehow, after his engagement. Perhaps she thought he’d look older or happier, but nothing changed. He’s the same old Zuko. Taller, yes, and a little careworn, but otherwise, he looks about the same as he did the day of his coronation. 

He smiles broadly when he sees Katara, and strides forward to greet her. Then his smile wavers. “What’s the matter? Did something happen?” 

Katara leans forward, about to close the distance between them. But before she can bridge the gap, a familiar face pops up from Appa’s saddle, and an irritated voice calls down: “Well, aren’t you going to help me?” 

Zuko sighs, embarrassed, and turns away from Katara to help his fiancée off the bison’s back. Shakily, she drops into his arms, and he lowers her to the ground. For the first time in five years, he’s brought her to Ember Island. 

Katara wonders if the grannies outside the teashop may have been right about Agni’s Breath after all.


	11. Chapter 11

Zuko may not have changed much over the years, but Mai certainly has. She’s paper white and achingly thin. Katara can see the delicate bones of her fingers fluttering under the skin of her hands as she adjusts her crown—a curved almost moon-shaped headpiece worn by the consort of Fire Lord or Fire Lady. Try as she might, it won’t take hold in her lanky black hair. 

A few days after Mai fell into the Spirit World, a group of sandbenders found her wandering the fringes of the Si Wong Desert, delirious and sick with fever. When they brought her back to their village, they had little hope of saving her, but day by day she recovered. At last her fever broke, but when the sandbenders asked where she had come from, they found that she could not speak. For two more months, Mai stayed lost to the rest of the world. Finally, she wrote a letter, which the resistance was able to sneak through the Earth Kingdom blockade.

The letter made its way—not to Zuko—but to Suki, and the old Kyoshi warrior pulled strings to bring Mai safely home. Zuko was grateful to Suki, but he ignored her suggestion of bringing Mai to Ember Island for treatment and recovery. Instead, he closed off a whole suite of rooms in the palace for her care, bringing in whole teams of physicians. Even so, it was a full year before Mai was able to speak again. She celebrated the return of her voice by banishing all of them from her sight. 

From that time on, the Fire Lord’s consort became the stuff of local legend—a mysterious figure, haunting the palace, never venturing out. The people whispered that she wasn’t the _real_ Lady Mai at all, but an evil spirit sent to bring misfortune to the Fire Nation. Zuko’s popularity suffered, but he stood by her. More than anything he wanted to help her, and for his people to show her kindness. But every day Mai grew a little more unearthly, and every day the people grew a little more wary of her. 

Standing in front of Katara now, Zuko is surprised to find that even she is looking at Mai like she’s seen a ghost. Katara is his most loyal friend, and if she can’t see past Mai’s appearance, then what can he expect from the rest of the Fire Nation? But Katara recovers quickly from her initial shock, setting her face and inclining her head in a traditional greeting.

“You’re surprised to see me, I guess. I don’t get out of the palace a lot.” Mai’s voice—at least—is normal.

Katara scrambles for a polite response. “As the future Fire Lady, I imagine it’s difficult to make time to visit friends. Especially way out here on Ember Island.” _  
There_ , Katara thinks. _That was diplomatic._ But Mai doesn’t seem to think so… Her eyes narrow and she looks pointedly at Zuko.

“Yes Katara, you would _think_ that would be the case.” 

Zuko’s back is turned to them as he their bags from Appa’s saddle, but Katara can see his shoulders stiffen. There is a moment or two when nobody speaks. Thankfully, they are spared from an awkward silence by Caihong, who yells from the porch that lunch will be ready in five minutes.

“Are you hungry?” Zuko touches the back of Mai’s arm and whispers in her ear. She glances down at the red curry stain on Katara’s dress, and shakes her head, visibly disgusted. A wave of indignation and fury threatens to overwhelm Katara, and she turns away with the pretense of leading the couple into the dining room. Once her face is safely hidden, she rolls her eyes so hard, it agitates her headache. Behind her, Mai wraps her arm through Zuko’s, and, together, they walk up the steps and into the double doors of the estate. 

The central part of the house is more or less unchanged since the days of Fire Lord Ozai. The residents avoid it. They say it’s hot and formal and just a little _creepy._ Katara reserves it for visitors and potential donors, and even then, they usually migrate out to the courtyard before too long. Still, it’s a good place to call a meeting if you don’t want to be interrupted.

Zuko remembers the formal dining room dining room—the scene of many nightmarish childhood dinners—with its low ceilings and straight back chairs. As Katara slides open the door panels, however, Zuko is delighted to see that Caihong simply brought all their tableware in from the kitchen and laid it on the solid dark mahogany. He smiles, imagining how angry his father would be if he could see the long table piled high with homespun placemats and earthenware dishes that would have been at home in Lo and Li’s beach house.

Toph, Suki, Azula, and Caihong are already gathered. They greet Zuko warmly, but nobody knows what to say to Mai. Suki and Azula ask her about her trip, and the three women talk for a few minutes about Appa and the weather. Toph finds Zuko and gives him an affectionate punch on the sleeve before grilling him on the latest competitive bending matches. Katara breaks away from the group and sits down heavily next to Caihong. They notch an eyebrow. 

“Still wearing that curry, huh?” 

She shoots them a glare worthy of Azula, but they laugh it off. “Don’t worry! You’d be beautiful even if you were wearing a swamp bender’s sack cloth. And I’m not the only one who thinks so…” Caihong adds, noticing Zuko’s gaze inching towards her whenever there’s a lull in the conversation. They smile sagely.

Katara waves away the comment, and looks down at her plate. After the red curry disaster, Caihong improvised, pulling out a jar of fermented onions and ladling them over leftover rice and mashed banana. Katara’s empty stomach rebels at the sight of the heaping portion in front of her. Caihong looks down at her chopsticks and waits for her to try a bite. Fortunately, at that moment the group’s conversation breaks up. Zuko makes his way to the empty seat at the head of the table, and Mai settles herself at his left hand, beside Caihong and Katara. Toph, Suki, and Azula take the seats facing them. They stare morosely down at the food on their plate, waiting patiently for Zuko to begin speaking. 

“Okay, I’ve had enough of this!” Toph says at last. “Zuko, are you going to tell us why you invited us to this weird meeting, or not?”

Zuko sighs and pushes away his plate. He doesn’t mind Caihong’s cooking, having grown up on Fire Navy rations, but there’s a lot they need to discuss. Lunch will have to wait… 

“I heard from Sokka,” Zuko addresses the table at large. “As you know, he’s been transferred out to Waletail Island to help train the joint forces. Apparently, there’s this local legend. At first, I thought it was just a story— it sounded like something you might tell your kids to keep them from wandering off. But then, I got another message. This one was from Commander Han. Han has a reputation for staying cool in a crisis, and I can trust him to handle dangerous assignments—assignments that take him into Earth Kingdom territory.”

Zuko looks pointedly at Suki. Strictly speaking, the Fire Nation is not allowed to cross the blockade. Kai Kozu would consider it a violation of their neutrality and an act of war. Suki nods slowly, accepting the trust he has placed in her not to share this information with her contacts in the resistance. 

“Well, on his last assignment Han picked up a group of refugees close to Omashu, but then a storm in the Bay of Chin knocked them off course. They wound up right off the coast of Foggy Swamp.”

There is a collective shudder around the table. The swamp is famous for the bizarre visions that plague the unlucky souls that wander too close. There’s no telling what Commander Han might have seen there. Everyone leans in closer.

“There’s an Air Nomad living in the swamp. Han’s seen him, and so have the islanders on Whaletale.” Zuko reaches for his traveling bag. From deep inside, he pulls out several sheets of paper, and begins passing them around.

“Gee, thanks,” Toph says. “This really clears things up for me.”

“One of the refugees was an artist, Toph,” Zuko explains. “They drew a picture of the monk, and it—”

“—it’s Aang!” Suki gasps, pressing her hand to her mouth.

Sure enough, the figure in the picture has tattoos running the length of his body. He’s dressed in faded saffron robes. What’s more he _looks_ like Aang, or an older version of him. The artist was able to capture something about his eyes. 

“It sounds like a load of bison-horsefeathers to me,” Toph says, leaning back in her chair. “So, some guy saw something in the swamp that looks a little like Aang. Big whoop!”

“But look!” Caihong points a long finger at a fuzzy white splotch on the picture in front of them. “It’s Momo!” 

Katara’s heart skips a beat, tearing the picture away from Caihong. Katara grieved for Momo the same way she had grieved for Bato, assuming that the little lemur had either gotten trapped underwater or had slipped through the black door. Although now, thinking back, she can’t remember actually seeing him that day at Lake Laogai. She squints at the little white dot in the middle of the page. 

Then, she holds the paper out and examines it. One thing Zuko failed to mention in his description to Toph is the ominous way the trees intertwine and cast eerie black shadows across the page. It’s clear that the artist was haunted by their encounter with the monk. 

“It’s probably just a vision.” Mai says, sensibly. “People see visions in the swamp all the time.” She tosses the paper she’s been examining onto the table and crosses her arms.

“The entire crew saw him! You think they’re all having the same vision?” Zuko arches an eyebrow, but Mai just shrugs.

Toph, who’s been quiet for a minute, suddenly stands up. Her chair clatters to the floor behind her. “So, we’re going after him, right? C’mon guys, let’s make a plan.”

Mai rolls her eyes. “It’s in the Earth Kingdom. That place is a fortress right now. What are you going to do? Use your cane as a paddle and row there?” Toph looks ready to leap across the table at Mai, so Katara cuts in. 

“This is a lot to absorb. Everybody’s going to need a minute or two to process. Why don’t we let Zuko finish his story? Then we’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with.” Zuko shoots her a grateful look.

“I know it seems crazy, but I believe the Avatar has returned. You all have your own reasons for wanting the him found, and I have a plan to capture him and bring him back to the Fire Nation.” Zuko shudders a little at how familiar the words feel on his lips, as if he was saying them to his uncle only yesterday. “Anyone at this table is welcome to join me.”

“I’m in.” Toph says immediately  
.  
Zuko gives her a hard look. “You haven’t heard the plan, yet. It might be dangerous.”

“Fine then, tell us the plan, and _then_ I’m in.”

Zuko sighs, but continues. “At midnight tonight, Admiral Han’s warship will pick us up and take us to Kyoshi Island, close to the swamps southern border. From there, anyone who wants to join me will cross the Bay of Chin. From there we’ll track the monk into the swamp. We don’t want to be in the Earth Kingdom any longer than we have to. If any one of us is caught there— well, you all know what the consequences would be... And all that aside, the swamp is a dangerous place. It was one of the first places I went looking for Aang when I was banished ten years ago. The visions are…intense. And sometimes very painful.” 

He pauses, and Katara heart drops into the pit her stomach. She has a shrewd idea what thirteen-year-old Zuko might have seen in the swamp. The thought of Zuko having to relive that moment, even in a vision, makes her want to scream.

“Let me be clear,” Zuko says, looking at everyone in turn. “The plan is risky. You shouldn’t agree to do this if you have any doubts.”

“No doubts here! I’ve been dreaming about this for years.” Toph brings her fist to her open palm, cracking her knuckles for effect. 

“No offense, Toph, but are you sure you’re up for it?” Suki asks. “It’s not going to be easy terrain.”

“Let me get one thing straight,” Toph says, her face glowing with determination. “Yes, I’m blind, and yes, I use a cane. But I can do anything the rest of you can! It just takes me a little more time. Besides, it’s you sighted folks who are gonna need my help!”

“What do you mean, Toph?” Suki asks.

“It’s one of the many weird things about that place. Only sighted people get the visions. Blind people don’t get them. Never have. So I’m _going_. And don’t forget that I’m actually doing you a favor, here.”

“Then, I’m in, too,” Suki says, inspired. “I was just telling Katara that I felt like I could climb a mountain. I guess I’ll put myself to the test. And I want to see Aang again, if only to understand why he did what he did.”

“Then I’m going, too.” Azula says. “Hunting the Avatar was always fun, and I’ve been feeling a little restless, lately.”

“Well I’m out,” Mai says. “That kid has caused me enough trouble as it is, and I’m not going to walk into the most dangerous place on earth just for his sake.”

“I’m out, too.” Caihong looks around the table a little tentatively. “I know that this probably isn’t the right thing to say, but coming to live here on Ember Island was the best thing that ever happened to me. I know it sounds selfish, because all of you lost so much, but I feel like I gained a whole community. It’s like the Air Nation really did come back—at least for me… I don’t feel the same need to bring him to justice. I’d go to support all of you, but you already know that I’m no good in a fight.” There’s silence for a moment. Everyone is strangely touched. Suki reaches across the table and gives Caihong’s arm an affectionate squeeze.

Zuko’s eyes slide down the table. “Katara?” he asks. 

All eyes turn to to her. She can feel her heart hammering against her chest. The heat is unbearable. Stalling for time, she turns the question back on Zuko.

“Hold on, how is it that you you can leave the Fire Nation? The Sons of Azulon are active again! This is going to take at least a week, and that’s if everything goes perfectly. There’s no way your advisors will allow it.”

“Actually, I’m not leaving the Fire Nation at all.” Zuko’s eyes glint a little as he explains. “I’ve got another bad case of fire throat, and it’s going to be a few days before I’m well enough to get out of bed. Aiko can handle the day-to-day stuff, and Ty Lee is sitting in for me at cabinet meetings. I’m just lucky I was able to steal her away from the Kyoshi warriors. She’s the best advisor I’ve ever had.”

“You don’t have to lie to them, Zuko. They all know you brought Ty Lee back from the Earth Kingdom to babysit me.” Mai says, acidly.

Katara is stunned. She’s never known Mai to be quite so bitter. Zuko’s jaw stiffens a little, but otherwise he ignores the comment. Katara wonders if this is a normal interaction between the two of them. Katara tries to imagine one of her friends speaking to her that way. Toph is blunt and sometimes rude, but even at her worst she’s never spiteful. 

“Well, I think it’s a good plan, Zuko,” Katara says, rising to his defense. 

“Excellent!” Toph grins. “So, it’s me, Zuko, Katara, Azula, and Suki. Pretty solid team!”

“Wait a second,” Katara backpedals. “I didn’t exactly say I was going. I just said it was a good plan. There’s so much I need to do here on Ember Island. And I’ve been falling really behind on my medical journals…”

“What?!” Toph looks at her dumbfounded. “Zuko’s about to defraud an entire country to go on this trip, and you can’t leave because you’re worried that you won’t have enough time to read? Are you worried you’ll get dropped from your bookclub?”

Katara averts her eyes. Zuko has only been there a half hour, and already it’s the single worst day Katara has ever spent on Ember Island. She can’t bear an entire week with him—talking low around a campfire, lying side by side on their sleeping mats… It would be too much for her. 

“I’m not going.” she says finally. “I can’t just leave Ember Island.”

Caihong opens their mouth, and Katara is sure they are about to offer to cover her shifts. She stands up abruptly before they have the chance. “Please, excuse me.” She says with a low bow. “I need to get back to work.” The rest of the group watch her go, a mix of confusion and disappointment on their faces. 

It isn’t technically a lie; she _does_ have plenty of work to do. Katara’s afternoons are just as busy as her mornings, and she gladly throws herself back into the routine. In the simple action of caring for others, she is able to forget about the Zuko and the curry. She is able to forget about the monk. She is even able to shut out her grief for a time, although it lurks ever-present in the corners of her mind. 

When she’s finally finished, night has fallen on the island. Feeling a little guilty, she ignores the dinner bell when it chimes. She knows the group is probably eager talk with her, hoping to convince her to go with them to confront the apparition in the swamp, but she can’t force herself to walk back in to that horrible, oppressive wing of the house. Even her little room feels confining. It’s as if the heat and the weight of the teak ceiling are piled on top of her like too many blankets. 

Suddenly Katara can’t take it anymore. She leaves the back door open and runs as fast as she can to the very edge of the island, where the land ends in a steep cliff and drops into the sea. 

There is an ancient shrine on top of the cliff. It’s derelict; the stone roof crumbled and gone many years ago, leaving a few outer walls and a statue, worn down by a thousand years of ocean winds. Still, the shrine fills her with a deep inner peace. She leans against the faceless statue, letting the crash of the waves quiet her mind.

She hears a rustling nearby and turns towards the source of the noise. 

“Zuko?” she calls into the darkness.

“Nope—even better.” Toph says, using her stick to make her way towards Katara. She’s barefoot. Although she can no longer see with her feet, she never quite got used to wearing shoes. 

“How did you know I was here?” Katara asks, hastily rubbing away her tears before remembering that Toph can’t see them.

“I didn’t.” Toph shrugs. “I take walks too, you know. I just do it at night, when I don’t have bunch of people tripping over themselves to help me.” Katara stays silent, hoping Toph will take the hint and go away. Instead, she takes a seat right at the edge of the rocky outcrop.

“But since you caught me … How are you doing? And don’t say fine. I don’t need my bending to know that _that_ would be a lie.”

“Oh, you know…Zuko’s news…it’s just hard to process,” Katara manages.

“Agreed. But I think you’ve got more going on than just the spooky swamp stuff. Is this about Zuko and Mai?”

Katara splutters. “What? That’s crazy! Why would I care about Zuko and Mai?” 

“Oh, spare me, Katara. You’ve got it _bad_. Even a literal blind person could see it. You’re good with other people’s emotions, but you’re terrible at hiding your own.”

Katara’s heart stops. “Do you think he knows?”

Toph sighs and picks at a spot on her chin. “It’s hard to tell with Zuko. I’ll tell you this much, though, he’s crazy if he goes through with that engagement. I mean, _yikes_. I’d rather marry the spirit of death.”

“Toph!” Katara’s voice is reproving. “Mai’s been through a lot.”

“So have I!” Toph says indignantly. “And so have you! And just because she’s struggled doesn’t mean I have to like her. Do you know she called me pipsqueak once? Yeah, well who’s the pipsqueak now, Mai?”

Katara snorts. “Toph she’s still like six inches taller than you!”

“Oh. Really?” Toph looks crestfallen. “See, that’s the worst thing about being blind…”

“It’s harder to insult people based on their looks?” Katara arches an eyebrow.

“Exactly! See, you get me…” Toph’s voice trails off, and she sits listening to the waves break on the cliffside. After a minute she breaks the silence. “As long as we’re talking about emotions and stuff… how do you feel about…him…coming back, I mean?” 

“We don’t even know for sure that it _is_ him.”

“But if it is. C’mon, spill it, sweetie.”

Katara gives a little sigh. “You know, growing up I thought the Avatar was the only hope we had to bring balance to the four nations. I thought that as soon as he came back, he’d fix the world and make it better, just like that.”

“No offence Katara, but one person can’t bring balance to the whole world. It goes against the principle of the thing. You can’t balance a scale with a single coin. One person can make a difference, sure, but the kind of world that you’re talking about would mean a lot of hard work from a lot of people.”

“Yeah, well, I see that now. Still, it made me happy thinking that there was someone who could just come in and fix…all of this. I don’t have that anymore.” Suddenly Katara feels tired, like she could beat Aang’s record and sleep for a hundred and one years. Toph looks pensively in her direction.

“Believe it or not,” she says. “I understand where you’re coming from. Growing up I had someone like that, too. Someone I thought could just swoop in and fix all my problems…”

“You?” Katara looks incredulous.

“Yeah, well, I never would have admitted it, but I had problems too. Anyway, I think a lot of people put their hopes outside of themselves. If it’s not a person, then it’s money, or power, or an ideal. We think that when we have it, things will get better. And it’s not something we grow out of either. Part of being human is sticking your chin out and hoping for something good in spite of how badly it can hurt when we're disappointed… I’ll bet there’s something out there that gives you hope, Katara. Even if you don’t want to admit it.

“You know you sound a little like Iroh,” Katara says. She’s alarmed to see tears in Toph’s eyes.

“Yeah, I miss him—you know? He really cared about me. There weren’t a lot of adults in my life who were like that. Zuko and I talk about him a lot, actually.”

“What does he say?”

“Oh, you know Zuko. He’s like the world’s best older brother. All he does is listen. He doesn’t judge me for what I say, which is nice. But he doesn’t say much about how he’s feeling, either. I get the feeling he’d rather be talking to someone else about that.”

Katara tugs nervously at her necklace. Zuko has mentioned Iroh a few times. Mostly, he talks about his uncle in passing, reciting one of his aphorisms or pointing out something that would have made him laugh. “He probably talks about his feelings with Mai,” she says, trying to keep a sour note out of her voice.

“Probably,” Toph says, fairly. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking about Iroh a lot today. If Aang can come back after all these years, then maybe he can too.”

Suddenly, Katara can see everything from Zuko’s perspective. Capturing Aang may be the only hope of finding his uncle. _No wonder he looked so hurt today when she said she wouldn’t join him._ And suddenly Katara knows what she’s going to do. Even if it means putting herself through the worst week of her life—even if she has to see Aang again—she will bury her own feelings down deep and help him any way she can.

“Can you get back okay?” Katara calls over her shoulder, running at full speed back to the house.

“Yeah!” Toph says. “But what are you—”

Then from even farther away, Toph hears her answer: “No time to talk! I’ve got to pack!” Toph turns back to face the water and smiles. _Yup_ , she thinks. _That girl has got it bad._


	12. Chapter 12

The ship is late. It floats into the bay over an hour past midnight. There is no moon, and the ship makes no sound as it slips through the water without its powerful engines. They would have missed it entirely if it weren’t for Suki, who catches the red standard in the darkness. With that, Zuko and Azula help Toph and Suki up into Appa’s saddle, while Katara says goodbye to a bleary-eyed Caihong. They hug her tightly, knowing how much she will miss them.

“I know this won’t be easy for you, Katara, but I pray the wind is always at your back,” they whisper the old blessing in her ear. 

Katara nods, grabs a hold of Appa’s horn, and uses it to swing herself onto the dense patch of fur at the crown of his head. She takes the reins in both hands. She is about to give the command, when Mai appears in the courtyard, dressed in traveling clothes and carrying a sleeping mat.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she says, urgently. “I’m coming with you.”

Katara frowns. “I’m not sure Appa can take the extra weight.”

“I’m not heavy,” Mai says as she lifts herself into the saddle. Zuko tries to help her, but she swats him away. Katara waits impatiently for the other woman to get settled, then she flicks the reins and gives the command to fly. Appa struggles under the weight six people and their provisions, but he’s able to make it the short distance out to the ship. Katara hops off immediately, pulling an apple from the pocket of her traveling cloak. “I’ll miss you, Appa,” she says, burying her face his warm fur. “Take care of Caihong, okay?” The bison brays happily at the offering, and nuzzles her stomach.

Without warning, Katara feels someone grab her roughly from behind, swinging her around. She screams. Her arms are pinned down, but she is able to conjure a water whip with a flick of the wrist. It catches her assailant right between the eyes.

“Jeez, Katara! Can you cool it with the water whips? Don’t you know any other moves?”

“Sokka!” she cries, at the sound of the familiar voice. She turns to find her brother rubbing and angry red spot on his forehead. He grins broadly and she jumps up into his arms, hugging him joyfully. He is as tall as their father, now, and his arms are thick as tree trunks. He swings her around as effortlessly as a polar bear dog with an otter penguin in its teeth. When he finally does let go, she’s able to get a better look at him. His face is browner and more defined than it had been the last time she saw him. Katara realizes he must spend all day in the sun training with the joint forces.

“Does everybody know you’re here?” she asks.

“Nope. Just Zuko!” He grins, glancing down at the puddle of water that had formed the water whip. “…I guess we pulled off the surprise.”

“Is that you, Sokka?” Toph laughs as he plants a big kiss on her cheek. “Does this mean you’re coming with us to kick some Avatar booty?”

“That’s the plan! I’ve got a whole week of shore leave, and I can’t think of a better way to spend it. Commander Han was nice enough to give me a lift!” Sokka gestures with his thumb towards a familiar figure, chatting animatedly with Zuko. Han looks older now, his hair is thinner and streaked with gray, but his bronze eyes still twinkle with youthful energy. Noticing Katara looking in his direction, he shoots her a conspiratorial wink.

“Sokka!” The next voice is Suki’s. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She lowers herself from Appa’s saddle and makes her way towards him. Her limp is more pronounced, now, perhaps from the night air. “Won’t they miss you in the joint forces?”

“Not as much as I missed you!” he says heartily, maneuvering awkwardly around her right arm, and hugging her tightly. The movement unbalances her and knocks her sideways into Toph.

“Hey! Watch it ponytail!” Azula says, grabbing the other girl.

Sokka covers his embarrassment with bluster. He claps his hands together, and calls out, loudly enough for everyone on deck to hear: “I think this calls for a celebration! Han, what do you say we break out that fancy rice wine I brought from—”

He cuts himself off with a sideways look at Zuko. “Well, it doesn’t really matter where I got it! But I definitely didn’t get it from the resistance forces in the Earth Kingdom. Because that would be wrong.”

“Nice save Sokka,” Zuko says, shaking his head.

“The point is, it’s really good wine, and everyone on board is welcome to it!” Sokka yells, and cheers rise from the sailors on deck. The commander doesn’t cheer, but he nods to one of his officers, who hurries off below decks. A minute later, the rest of the crew arrive, carrying armfuls of provisions, instruments, tin cups, and Sokka’s own rice wine.

Katara grabs her brother’s sleeve, and tugs. “I need to talk to you about something,” she whispers in his ear.

“Sure thing, Katara!” He says, pouring out two full cups of the strong wine—one for himself and one for Suki. “Just give me one second, okay?”

Katara watches as he hands Suki her drink and they make their way over to a quiet corner of the ship. Her limp is definitely worse, but Katara can’t think what might have caused the change. She shakes her head, and turns back to Appa. With one final pat, she sends him on his way back to Caihong and a well-earned bedtime snack. Just in time too—at that moment, the ships engines cut back into action and the island begins to grow smaller on the horizon.

Nearby, the crewmates with instruments begin to play. They start with _The Girls from Ba Sing Se_ —a favorite of sailors from all four nations. They play a little off key, but the tune is catchy and upbeat. One of the gunners takes Toph by the waist and pulls her into a two-step. He’s sensitive to her blindness and doesn’t push her, but she’s a gifted dancer, and the group begins to clap along in time to the music. One by one, more couples join in. An officer extends a hand to Mai, but she refuses. Commander Han nudges Zuko jocularly, who then offers his own hand. Mai takes it reluctantly, but whispers something to the leader of the band. The music changes and slows to more dignified tempo.

Katara watches as Zuko leans in close to Mai, wrapping his arms tightly around her thin frame. He whispers something in her ear as they dance together, and she shakes her head. Katara reaches for the tin cup Sokka left for her, fills it to the brim with rice wine, and takes a swig. It’s light and dry, and it awakens her senses. The last remnant of her headache vanishes, and she takes another sip, wondering why she didn’t start drinking earlier in the day.

Han takes a seat next to her on an upturned crate. “You don’t get that look in your eye from rice wine and good company,” he says. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

Katara looks at him alarmed. _Were her feelings so obvious?_ “It’s nothing!” she insists, plastering a big, disingenuous smile on her face. “I’m just tired…” He looks unconvinced, and Katara decides that she needs a change of subject.

“It’s so good to see you again, Commander Han! How is your daughter?”

“She’s well,” he says. “About to be married, actually. It’s nice to see two young people in love... They make a nice couple, don’t they?” He says, nodding towards Mai and Zuko.

“Yes,” Katara chokes back another sip of the rice wine. 

“It’s good to have a wedding to look forward to, isn’t it? Something to celebrate in dark times. I’ve been attending too many funerals, lately, I’m sorry to say.”

Katara drains her cup and sets it down next to her with a _clank_ of tin on wood. She rises quickly to her feet. “Excuse me, Commander Han,” she says. “I need to…I need to go.” 

“Oh no,” he says. “You’re not going to bed already, are you? I know a few of my crewmembers were looking forward to meeting you!”

“I’m sorry,” she says, already backing away. “Another night—I promise. I’m just…so tired.”

Before Han can offer up any more resistance, Katara turns on her heels and strides towards the door that leads below decks. On her way out, she grabs a long crystal bottle of distilled sea prunes, tucking it away in her traveling cloak. But, at the last minute, she veers off course—stepping around the raised quarter deck—and onto the empty stern. She can hear the muted sounds of the party going on behind her, but it feels like a thousand miles away from this calm corner of the ship. She looks out at the water and wishes the moon were out tonight.

She thinks of her grandmother, and where her spirit might be at that moment. In her culture, people believed that the dead returned as animals who would guide the way for loved ones left behind. Her grandmother often said that she wanted to be a bird, one day. Katara tried to think of what bird she might be—a king cormorant? A long-tailed pelican? She liked to imagine her as an arctic tern, rising higher than all the other birds on the ancient polar winds. She takes a swig from the bottle. The dark liquid burns as it runs down her throat. 

“Watch it with that stuff,” Zuko’s voice comes out of the darkness behind her.

“Will you stop sneaking up on me?” she says, not bothering to look back at him. After a moment, she feels him come up next to her on the railing.

“What is it, Katara?” He asks. “I’ve known you too long not to notice when something’s bothering you. You can tell me, you know.”

Katara considers telling him. She had been about to, earlier that day. But suddenly it feels overwhelming—like staring out onto a vast, white ocean that she knows she needs to cross. Besides, it would be wrong to tell Zuko before telling Sokka, now that they are together again. Instead, she reaches out and lays a hand on his, weaving their fingers together on the railing. He squeezes back gently, but then lets go.

“Were you in love with Aang?” He asks, giving voice to a question he’s been wondering about for five years.

“I wanted to be,” she says, “but no. Not Aang… I’ve only ever loved one man.” 

Zuko’s heart beats wildly in his chest. He wonders who the man might be…was he someone from her tribe? Was it Haru? Was it even remotely possible she was talking about him? Katara isn’t looking in his direction, but out at the water. He thinks she is probably remembering someone from her past... _Still…_

The stand there in silence as the distant music changes again. It’s a familiar, haunting tune, and Katara begins to hum along… _“four seasons, four loves…”_

“This was Uncle’s favorite song,” Zuko says, leaning against the railing and looking at Katara out of the corner of his eye. “I think it reminded him of someone…the great love of his life.”

“Was that Lu Ten’s mother?” Katara asks. “But no—wait—you said your uncle didn’t marry for love.” The rice wine has made her much bolder, more willing to ask Zuko questions about his family. 

“He didn’t.” Zuko says, simply. “That was political. Uncle never told me who it was that he loved. I know that he lost them a long time ago—before I was born. I only know that they met in a tea shop.”

“—a tea shop?” Katara smiles. “Really? Is that why he loved tea so much? Because it reminded him of them?”

Zuko shrugs. “I don’t know. There was a lot I didn’t know about my uncle. He always seemed so open, but the truth was he kept his secrets well. I wish I was better at that…” He looks down at Katara—drinking in the light from her blue eyes and her mahogany dark skin. He wonders how, in Agni’s name, she doesn’t know the depth of his love for her. To him it feels like it’s thrummed out with every beat of his heart…

“Do you talk about your uncle, ever? With Mai, I mean?”

Zuko is startled by the question. Katara rarely speaks to him about Mai. But he considers for a moment…The truth is, he and Mai speak only in the here-and-now. Never about what’s past, and never about the future. He shrugs.

Katara shakes her head, exasperated, and Zuko’s brows knit together, sensitive to her disapproval. “You know if you have something you want to say to me…” he begins, and she rounds on him like a wild elephant-rhino.

“Yes, actually, I do have something to say to you, Fire Lord! Why do you hang around Ember Island so much? It’s like you have nothing better to do! Come to see your sister? —fine, but I can’t keep entertaining you! I’m too busy to host state visits every other day of the week.”

Zuko’s temper rises—“So—what? –you want me to visit my sister for an hour each week and just give you my family’s house?!”

“You know what?” she says, “I think it’s time Caihong and I move out. You can have the house back. We’ve been needing a bigger place anyway. Azula can come visit you in the city. That way, we never have to see each other again! Wouldn’t that be something…”

Zuko can feel his heart breaking in his chest at the thought of never seeing Katara again. “No!” he says. “Absolutely not! Wait a minute, Katara, just…calm down for a second. Let’s talk about this!”

“I am calm!” she yells so loudly that it draws Mai and Azula to the place where they are standing facing each other. 

“What’s going on?” Mai asks. “What are you two doing back here?”

“Nothing.” Katara says, breathlessly pushing past Zuko. “Nothing’s going on. I’m sorry, I was just on my way to bed.” Katara hurries around the corner down the passage to the lower deck, leaving Zuko staring after her, dumbfounded.

“Nice work,” Azula smirks. Mai is looking at him, her expression frozen in a look of complete disgust. Somehow, in the space of ten minutes, Zuko has managed to upset or annoy each the three most important women in his life. He wonders if it’s some sort of record, or just his own special talent.

* * *

This far out to sea, mornings are chilly, even between tropical parallels. Zuko, who has grown used to a royal schedule, rises early and makes his way up onto the deck. On a normal day, if he wants a moment alone to practice firebending, he needs to do it before his advisors are awake and clambering for his attention. 

He arrives to find the ship covered in a thick, gray fog. He smiles to himself, remembering all the mornings he had spent in Earth Kingdom territory, impatient for the sun to rise and the indigenous fogs to clear. His uncle would wait with him, nursing his morning cup of tea. Zuko steps forward blindly, hoping to make his way to the railing. He’s only gone a few paces when he hears the sound of whispered voices. Without meaning to, he finds himself directly behind Katara and Sokka, who are standing close together. Their eyes are bright with tears. 

“It was quick,” he hears Katara say. “Dad said it was quick. She didn’t…she didn’t feel it.”

Sokka’s shoulders begin to shake, and Katara puts an arm up to steady him. Quickly, Zuko crouches against the hammered steel of the main smokestack and curses his timing— _I have Agni’s luck, that’s for sure._

“You said eel pox? Where would she even get it?”

“I mean, you were there the last time we went. You know how busy it is now, with trading ships in and out of who knows where. And she took care of that poor family in the village…They always have at least one sick child…”

Zuko hears a clang of metal, and he guesses that Sokka has kicked the gunwale in frustration. 

“Sokka…” Katara’s voice is gentle. “She loved those people—and she loved watching the life come back into our tribe. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

“Yes it is!” he says. “It’s _my_ fault! I should have been there! I mean, when’s the last time we even saw her? Last solstice? Some grandson I turned out to be.”

“She was proud of us, Sokka.” Zuko can tell that Katara is speaking through tears. “She told me—the day I left with Commander Han the first time. She told me that she knew she couldn’t keep us with her forever. She told me I was like water, that I went where I was needed. I’m sure she felt the same way about you Sokka.”

Zuko’s heart breaks for Katara in that moment. No wonder she had been so unhappy. And yesterday on the stern… He had gone on and on about his uncle while she had just lost her grandmother… He wants to do something—anything— to help, but he has experienced enough loss in his life to know that there’s nothing he can do. It just takes time. Besides, if he did, Katara would know he had been listening… 

Zuko looks around, hoping for a way out. Fortunately, at that moment, he hears the scrape and click of Toph’s cane. Katara and Sokka wipe their eyes quickly at the approaching sound. As Toph nears the place where they are gathered, Zuko steps out from behind the smokestack, pretending to have come up with her. Despite the early hour, she is immaculately dressed in traveling pants and a light tunic, her hair pulled back in a simple knot at the nape of her neck.

“Morning kids!” she says. “Who else is ready to get this party started?” Nobody answers, and Toph shrugs. “Wow, tough crowd…”

“We should be there soon…” Zuko says. He tries to make his voice sound as normal as possible—to forget everything he has just overheard, but he can’t quite bring himself to meet Katara’s eyes. “We should stay up here and keep a lookout while we have breakfast.”

“I’ll be lookout,” Katara offers, hastily. “You all go get breakfast.”

“Don’t be silly. We’ll stay up here with you,” Sokka’s voice is a little hoarse. Toph considers him, tilting her head a little to one side, like a bird. Zuko wonders if she notices the difference in his tone. 

“I’ll go get breakfast,” Zuko says, and he makes his way down to the galley. He moves automatically around the little kitchen. How many mornings did he spend making breakfast for his uncle and his crew during his banishment? It takes him all of ten minutes, but by the time he returns to the main deck, the sun has already risen, and the fog has weakened. The crew is busily preparing to come round at the first sight of land. Suki, Azula, and Mai are all awake and dressed, sitting on upturned crates and buckets around the gunwale. Zuko passes out the small tin cups of porridge, honey, and whiskey—a traditional breakfast aboard Fire Navy ships. Only Sokka drinks his portion, downing it in one swallow and smacking his lips. The rest of the group pass around a canteen of hot, black tea.

“Okay, listen up!” Toph says, rubbing her hands. “I’m about to give you all a little crash course in resisting visions. As you all know, I’m an expert in resisting vision.”

Sokka laughs, but cuts himself off when he notices a few of the passing crewmembers are staring at him, horrified.

“Not cool, Sokka.” Toph says, enjoying the opportunity to make him uncomfortable. “My vision impairment is not a laughing matter. Thank you, all, for keeping him in line.”

They shake their heads at Sokka, keeping up their dirty looks as they go about their business. Sokka scooches his bucket over to Toph and says quietly, “how did you know they were giving me funny looks?”

“That’s easy,” she says. “Everyone looks at you funny.”

“Ha, ha. Hilarious,” he says, and she chortles.

“Yeah, I thought so!” 

“So, these visions?” Suki says, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, right! The visions!” Toph continues. “Well, visions in the swamp can be managed a couple of different ways. First, you can break your line of sight: close your eyes, turn away, whatever. If you can’t see it, it can’t affect you. That’s why I don’t get the visions. Second, you can use some of your other senses to determine if what you’re seeing is really there. Most people can hear the visions; it’s unclear exactly why. But if you can’t feel it or smell it, it’s a good bet it’s not real. And before you ask, Sokka, no, I don’t recommend that you try to taste them, either.”

Sokka lowers his raised hand.

“Lastly, you need to remember that these visions are _personal._ If Zuko can see it, but Azula can’t—it’s a vision. Clear?” Everyone nods. “Okay then,” Toph says, leaning back against the blukheads. “I guess all that’s left to do is wait.”

But just then, Katara spots it: “Land!” she says “Look! There’s land! Over there!”

The first mate hears her call and runs to the gunwhale beside Katara. She nods, confirming that, she too can see land in the distance. She calls out, “prepare to come around!” And the activity on deck grows still more vigorous. 

Commander Han strides over to the group and peers into a spyglass. After a moment, he nods and hands the spyglass to Katara. She observes a tangle of vines, branches, and roots, as dense as a brick wall, which stops abruptly at the ocean line. Waves crash into the trees, and water burbles out slowly at the roots like a pot boiling over. This landing won’t be easy—even for a waterbender. Katara’s jaw sets in defiance. This is her time to shine, and she won’t be intimidated—no matter how rough the water is or how eerie the swamp looks in the fog. She pulls a long strip of water from the sea below, and uses it to cut down a tanned gray lifeboat, a little like the canoes of her childhood.

As the group prepares to climb down into the lifeboat, the big ship begins to come around, ready to take cover in one of the many hidden coves around Kyoshi Island. If they are discovered there, the Fire Nation faces open war. Zuko and Commander Han confer for a few final moments—going over the plan for what would happen if they should get caught, or if they should simply disappear into the swamp, never to be seen again…

If all went well, they would have the Avatar in three days’ time, and send a smoke signal to Comander Han that they were ready to leave. Commander Han would then maneuver the ship out of hiding. They would meet it out on the open water, on its way out of the Earth Kingdom for good and all. But there was a lot that needed to happen between then and now… And the most difficult days of the journey were still very much ahead of them.


	13. Chapter 13

The journey across the bay is unnerving—exposed as they are on all sides. Katara keeps one eye on the water, and one eye out for Earth Kingdom ships patrolling the coast. She has heard rumors that they hide out in secluded places, waiting to arrest anyone who tries to escape their boarders. She spares a backward glance at Commander Han’s vessel speeding into the distance behind them, hopefully towards safe harbor around Kyoshi Island. 

The fog is still gathered in low places among the banyongrove trees, but it has become an oppressive, muggy morning. In spite of the heat, Katara feels a chill run down her spine. This close to shore, they should already be hearing the call of native seabirds, croaking wood frogs, and tiny insects buzzing— but all Katara can hear is the sound of choppy water breaking against the boat. It’s as if the swamp senses that something is coming…

“Suki?” Katara calls above the waves, suddenly uneasy. “The Unagi is hibernating this time of year, right?”

“Yeah, it is!” Suki calls back. “We won’t see it. Not unless we’re really unlucky and wander into its hiding place. Why?”

Katara’s eyes narrow. 

Suddenly, a dark shadow—as thick as the bulkhead of Han’s ship—slips underneath the lifeboat, rocking it so badly that they nearly capsize. Katara reacts on instinct, pushing the craft forward in the water. Toph loses her seat and stumbles backwards into Suki, while the rest of the group clutches at the sides to keep from going overboard. They careen towards the solid wall of trees, too fast to avoid crashing into them.

“Katara what are you doing?” Sokka yells, but Katara ignores him.

Balancing herself at the stern, she raises her hands and calls up a wave from far out on the bay. The water rushes forward and catches the little boat, carrying it higher and higher, until they are floating just above the tree line. For a moment, they can see over the entire swamp—straight to the massive banyongrove tree at its center. They come down with a woosh, as the wave brakes onto a jumble of branches and vines, suspending them halfway between the canopy and the ground.

“What in sacred Oma‘s name was _that?_ ” Toph asks, knocking the water out of her ears. “Did someone see us? Were there Earth Kingdom ships?”

All eyes turn to Katara. “I-it was the Unagi!” she stammers. “Didn’t—didn’t you see it?”

“No.” Toph mumbles.

“That’s impossible,” Suki says. “The Unagi isn’t in open waters this late in the year. You won’t see it unless you go messing around in sea caves or inlets. Those are the places it likes to hibernate, not out in the middle of the bay.”

“So, a vison then?” Katara asks, trying not to take the dispirited looks on her friends’ faces to heart. 

“Well,” Azula says, hiking her pack up on her shoulders, “there’s no point sitting around and waiting for the visions here.” She swings her legs over the sides of the lifeboat and drops lightly to the ground. The rest of the group follows her, either jumping off the sides of the boat or using a thick vine to lower themselves down gently. The last to reach the ground is Sokka, climbing down a vine with Suki on his back, like a baby goat gorilla. They decide to leave the boat hanging there—out of sight. 

The trees draw closer together the deeper they penetrate into the swamp. Eventually, the little trail they’ve been following dies out completely, and they are forced to wade through tracks of brackish water. It’s slow going. Toph stumbles once or twice over the uneven rocks on the riverbed, relying on Azula to warn her of larger obstacles ahead. Still, she manages quite well. Katara suspects that she’s had lots of practice walking alone on Ember Island at night.

Suki, by comparison, is quite slow, which surprises Katara, given the way she had seen her sparring with Azula only a week ago… Now she sticks close to Sokka and clutches his arm so tightly, she leaves little crescent moons in his skin with her fingernails. 

For a long time, Zuko walks with Mai at the back of the line. It’s hard to tell if Mai is slow, or if she’s just avoiding the rest of the group. They walk mostly in silence. Every so often he will ask her how she is feeling, or point out a particularly mossy patch of ground. In return, she asks if he has had enough water to drink or if he is too hot in his jacket. If anyone had turned around to look at them, they would have seen the image of an ideal Fire Nation couple—the kind depicted in the old woodblock prints from Sozin’s court. But then Mai slips and nearly falls over a jutting banyongrove root.

“You could’ve warned me,” she says waspishly to Zuko. “It was right there in front of you.”

“Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t see it.”

She rolls her eyes, but he ignores it.

“What’s your problem, Zuko?” she asks, annoyed.

He looks at her in disbelief. “What’s _my_ problem? I’m not the one with a problem here. I didn’t see the stupid root, okay? So why are you rolling your eyes at me?”

“Oh, good. At least you noticed that!” 

Zuko rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration, pulling pieces loose from his topknot. It makes him look wild and angrier than he actually feels. If he’s being honest, it’s been a long time since Mai could spark more than a faint irritation within him. Already, he can feel it fading away. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t see the stump,” he says, trying to put his heart into the apology, but the words come out tonelessly. 

Mai looks at Zuko, stricken—realizing in that moment that she’s lost even the power to make him angry. She wonders how it can be possible that she inspires so little emotion in Zuko—the only man who has ever made her feel anything.

“Don’t talk to me for a minute,” she says. “I want to be alone.”

Zuko hesitates, but, in the end, he shakes his head and catches up to Toph and Azula. Katara hangs back. She’s not sure Mai would accept her help, but she wants to be close at hand in case she needs it. 

The group carries on that way for the rest of the afternoon. Katara is surprised to find that Mai is able to keep up, even without Zuko’s help, until—suddenly—she stops in her tracks. Katara is alarmed, worried the other woman is hurt or maybe experiencing some sort of vision—but Mai is only bending over to remove a burr from her instep.

“I hate this place,” she says, noticing Katara hovering nearby. 

“It’s not my favorite either,” Katara admits. “A little hot for my taste.”

“I’m not sure how you stand it in the Fire Nation, then.” Mai plucks another burr—this time out of her long, braided hair. 

“It gets difficult sometimes,” Katara says, glancing over to the spot where Zuko is helping Toph over a patch of boxthorn. “But in many ways the Fire Nation is my home, now. I guess I’m stuck with it.”

Mai doesn’t look impressed. “Yeah, well, unless you were born there, I don’t think you can ever really understand it. We as a people like to keep our emotions buried deep. That’s confusing to some foreigners.”

Katara’s eyes narrow. She feels the sudden urge to bend the water around Mai’s ankles and knock her face-first into the drink. She is still enjoying the mental image of Mai, half-caked in mud, when Sokka calls the group to a halt. They’ve reached the base of a gigantic tree stump. It slopes gently upward—rising over the flat terrain and peeking out above the canopy of trees. They climb to the top, enjoying the sunshine on their faces and the feeling of dry, solid wood underfoot. 

“Well,” Sokka addresses the group. “I’d say we got about ten miles under our belts. Let’s rest here for a few hours, before we go any further. All in all, pretty good for our first push!” 

“I miss Appa…” Toph says, rubbing her feet. “Wish that Kai Kozu didn’t already know about him…This entire trip would’ve taken two days.”

“What’s the matter?” Sokka grins. “Are you sick of me already?”

“You? No. Fire moths and prickle snakes? _Yes._ I forgot how fast those suckers can move…”

“Speaking of fast…” Azula chimes in with a hint of the old menace in her tone. “We need to move faster or there’s no way we’ll be able to reach the Avatar before we have to turn back. I mean, have you ever heard of a flutterbat catching up with a phoenix? Because that’s the situation we’re in.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Azula,” Sokka says, glancing over at Suki. “We’re making good time. We don’t need to push it.”

Azula looks like she is about to argue the point, but Suki mouths something at her from behind Sokka’s back. Azula doesn’t look happy, but she lets the issue drop with a defiant toss of her black hair. 

The group relishes their time in the sun, although the water evaporating off their clothes leaves their legs itchy and crusted with salt. They lean back against their rolled up sleeping mats, and enjoy the breeze. Sokka hands around a bag dried lychee nuts. Everyone takes a few, except for Suki, who refuses—insisting that she’s not hungry. Sokka rattles the bag in front of her, coaxing her to take just one, reminding her that she hasn’t eaten all day. Suki pushes the bag away gently. Sokka and Suki never argue. Instead, they talk over their disagreements, sometimes for hours on end. Katara doses off to the sound of their voices, hashing and rehashing the issue, until, eventually, their words become meaningless noise…

She awakens suddenly to the sound of someone screaming nearby. The sun has dipped lower on the horizon—Katara can see it through the tangled roots of the stump. She can’t have been asleep for more than an hour. _Was it just part of her dream?_ But no…another scream shatters the calm, louder this time. Katara turns to find Suki cowering from some invisible assailant, her strong arm held defensively in front of her face. 

“I had the form down perfectly this morning!” she cries. “I don’t know what happened! I promise I’ll do it better next time.” 

“Quick!” yells Toph. “Someone, break her line of sight!”

Zuko tries to step in front of her, but she shies away from him like a wild ostrich horse. Tears stream down her face and she cries out again. “Please, it was only one mistake!”

Sokka crouches low and approaches Suki like he’s on the hunt. He tries three times to step in front of her and cover her eyes with the palm of his hand, but each time she evades him, drawing closer and closer to the edge. Another failed attempt, and she might accidently loose her footing and fall backwards twenty feet to the ground. 

“Listen, Suki,” Sokka says with his heart in his throat. “Whatever it is—talk to me, okay? We’ve been through a lot, you and me. And I know it’s been really hard for you. I would take away the pain if I could. But you can tell me what you’re going through—you know that, right? I mean, we’re Sokka and Suki. Fan and sword, remember? We’re a team.”

For a moment it looks like Sokka might have broken through the cloud that has overtaken Suki’s mind. She lowers her arm a few inches away from her face, but then her whole body convulses in fear, and she takes another step closer to the edge.

“All right, that’s enough!” Azula steps forward, pushing Sokka aside. “Suki, get a grip, or you’re going to frighten yourself right off the edge of a cliff.” She strides confidently over to the other woman, until she is standing only an inch away—looking into her eyes with a sharp, unwavering gaze. Suki’s eyes shift. She is still under the thrall of the vision, but she is looking at Azula.

“You need to close your eyes now, Suki,” Azula says.

“No, please. He’ll be mad.” 

“Suki…” Azula’s voice is low. She reaches out for the first time, not to cover Suki’s eyes, but to take her hand. “Please, close your eyes. I need you to come back…”

And with that Suki blinks—over and over again—clearing the vision from her mind. As she does so, more tears begin to fall. She stumbles forward, but Azula catches her and brings her down to rest at the knotted edge of the stump.

“Did you just say please?” Suki asks weakly. “I didn’t even think that word was in your vocabulary.”

Azula smiles wryly. “Let’s not make a big deal about it,” she says. “It’ll probably never happen again.” Suki shakes her head slowly and chuckles, wiping the tears away with her sleeve.

Katara looks on in amazement. She had always suspected that Suki had had a rough childhood — nobody ended up in the Kyoshi warriors unless they had nowhere else to go… But she had known Suki for seven years now, and it hadn’t come up once in all that time. _How had she kept it hidden it away for so long?_

Katara’s eyes land on Sokka, who is frozen to the spot where Azula knocked him down. She wonders how much he knew about this — if anything.

For a minute, everyone is quiet. Then— _“argh!_ ” From somewhere behind her, Katara hears Zuko cry out in surprise.

“Not you too!” Toph says, exasperated.

“I don’t think it’s a vision!” he says. 

Everyone turns to look, except Toph. “Well?!” she demands after a moment. “Is anybody going to tell me what ‘it’ is?” 

“It’s Momo!” Suki says, wonderingly. “I see him, too…” 

And, sure enough, the white lemur is there— perched just a few feet away from them on the roots. He looks older—his fur is more tufted in places, and the skin around his eyes hangs more loosely than before. He approaches the group tentatively. Katara is the closest, and she reaches out a hand for him to smell—like she would in the old days. He sniffs once, twice…then, his heckles go up. Before Katara can grab him, he scurries away, taking a flying leap onto the branches below.

“We need to go after him!” Katara shouts. 

“I’ll stay with Suki,” Sokka and Azula say in unison. Sokka’s eyes snap away from the white lemur disappearing in the distance. He considers Azula for a moment.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Suki’s my girlfriend. I should stay with her.” His tone is casual, but his eyes are narrowed and his body is tensed. Azula shakes her head.

“Don’t be stupid, ponytail,” Azula says looking at the expectant faces around them. “ _They_ need you. She needs _me_.”

Katara can see her brother considering his options. It’s true that—if they are going to have any luck finding Aang—he needs to move forward with the rest of the group. Suki will be perfectly safe with Azula—they can make their way back to the lifeboat easily enough… But there’s more to it than that. Instinctively, Sokka knows that it’s more than a question of who will go on and who will stay behind. 

“Fine,” he says, grabbing his pack and stuffing the bag of lychee nuts back inside. “This isn’t over, you know!” he calls back to Azula. But at that moment, an exhausted Suki lays her head on the other woman’s shoulder, nestling her cheek gently under her chin.

“Yes, it is,” Azula says, grinning.

* * *

In spite of Sokka’s earlier insistence that they were making good time, he pushes the group much harder than he did before. Katara, who still trains every day, has to wipe away the beads of sweat that form at her temples. Toph manages without Azula, following the sound of Katara’s splashing feet ahead of her. Zuko calls out whenever there is something in her way. Once or twice, Katara looks back at Toph to find that she is smiling. Mai surprises everyone by running ahead—even taking to the trees at one point to be sure that Momo has not hidden away in the canopy. 

The group is fast, but they are not silent. They crash through the undergrowth like a herd of wild elephant rhino. More than once Sokka has to stop and remind them that Momo isn’t deaf. Whenever this happens Zuko and Katara look sheepishly at one another and Toph blushes. They know the reminder is directed at them—Mai still moves as silently as a shadow through the trees.

There is only a thin crescent moon that night, so when the sun sets, they are forced to make camp. The mood is gloomy—there has been no sign of Momo since he appeared that afternoon. 

Zuko lays out two sleeping mats side by side in the driest spot he can find. Mai complains that it is still too soggy, but Zuko doesn’t care. Katara is combing her hair a few feet away, and he watches, mesmerized, as the curls tumble down her back, like an impossible waterfall, unbound by natural laws. Sensing his gaze, she turns to look in his direction. Mai takes the opportunity to run one long fingernail along Zuko’s jawline, turning his face towards her and kissing him goodnight. When she is finished, she lets her hand linger on his bare chest. Zuko is startled. She hasn’t kissed him like that in years… Not since before she fell into the Spirit World.

He waits until he is sure that Mai is asleep before he glances over at Katara once more. She’s laying on her sleeping mat facing away from him. Zuko watches as her breathing evens out, wishing that they had been able to talk—just the two of them—even for a few moments. 

Feeling defeated, he flops down onto his own mat and shuts his eyes, but it’s no use; he can’t sleep. After an hour or two he gets up and walks away from the clearing. He knows that it’s dangerous. He knows he shouldn’t be going too far into the tangle of branches and vines. But at that moment he doesn’t care—he just needs to escape the sound of Sokka’s snoring. He walks a long way before he is able to calm his body and even longer before he is able to calm his mind. All he can hear are the late-night sounds of the swamp—crickets and wood frogs and the gentle beat of his own heart.

Then, from over his shoulder, come the first plucked chords of a familiar tune: _“winter, spring, summer and fall…”_ He whirls around to find a figure—his Uncle Iroh—sitting cross legged on a log, a pear-shaped instrument in his lap. Zuko approaches the figure, slowly.

“Bah!” says the vision. “I never could get this right at the chorus. It’s so much easier on the tsungi horn…”

“Uncle?” Zuko’s voice is weak. He had forgotten how lifelike the visions could be. As the figure plucks out notes on the lute, he notices the calluses that come from life on a Fire Navy ship. His uncle had always been so proud of them…

“Zuko! Come sit down and help me with this.” The vision grins widely, indicating patch of moss beside him.

“I know it isn’t really you,” Zuko says. “I know this is a vision.”

“Of course!” Iroh chuckles. “But there’s no need to be rude about it. Come sit with me and enjoy the evening.” He gestures once more the spot beside him, and Zuko sits down. For a minute, he says nothing while Iroh tries once more to get a hang of the tune. Eventually, he gives it up and sets the instrument aside, settling his full attention on Zuko. Despite Toph’s warnings about the visions, he can’t resist the opportunity to speak with his uncle one last time. 

“I’ve missed you,” he says, simply. 

The real Iroh would have reached out and laid an affectionate hand on his shoulder, but the vision cannot. Instead, it considers him, kindheartedly. 

“You know that I will always be with you, nephew,” it says.

A tear rolls down Zuko’s cheek. He turns and wipes it away with his sleeve. _I hate the swamp,_ he thinks.

“But where are you, really? I’ve been trying to find you!”

“You can always find me—” 

“—and don’t say ‘ _you can always find me in your heart_.’ I know my uncle too well to let a vision get away with that. Uncle knew how to avoid questions he didn’t want to answer, but he was always honest with me when it was important. If you’re going to pretend to be him, then at least do it right.” 

The vision tugs thoughtfully at his beard before responding. “I can tell you that you and I will meet again before too long. But I’m afraid there are no simple answers to the questions you would ask.”

Zuko turns away in bitter disappointment. _What did I expect? Thinking a vision would help me find Uncle…_

“I must warn you, Zuko,” the vision continues over his shoulder. “I know that you are anxious about your journey. But it’s not the swamp you need to worry about. Familiar places hide old enemies. Listen for them, nephew! They will move in silence.”

Zuko shivers. Hadn’t he heard once before that visions in the swamp could predict the future? Was this vision giving him a real warning or just trying to sound clever? He turns back, but the vision is already gone—vanished from the place it had been only moments before. 

_That’s what I get,_ he thinks, _for wandering off alone in the swamp._

He blinks up at the thin sliver of moonlight through the trees, realizing that it’s way past time to start heading back to camp. He looks around and picks what he thinks is the right path. He hurries along, not paying much attention to his surroundings. His mind is too full of other things. Then, rounding a corner too quickly, he almost runs headlong into Katara. She loses her balance and falls backwards into the water with a _splash._

“Oh, spirits! Zuko, you scared me!” she says, clutching at her heart.

“I scared _you_? I’ve seen avalanches that move slower than that!” Grinning, he offers her a hand, but she ignores it. Instead, she shoots him a withering look to tell him exactly what she thought of his avalanche comment. He lets his hand drop to his side.

“Why were you running, anyway?” he asks.

“Well…I woke up and I saw that you were gone. And you know it’s isn’t safe to walk around the swamp alone...” 

Zuko’s heart warms, knowing that Katara had been worried for him—that she had left the safety of camp to come and find him… 

“Zuko, are you even listening to me?” she asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “The swamp is too dangerous for you to wander around on your own.”

“I know,” he says with an apologetic shrug. “Walk back with me?”

Katara nods, her frustration evaporated after finding him safe and well. 

The path back is narrow, and Katara is forced to walk a few paces ahead. Zuko watches her pick her way over the carpet of gnarled roots. The moonlight seems to shine more brightly on her than on anything else. It reflects off of her hair and makes her blue tunic glow white. Every so often, she turns to check that he is still behind her, and every time she does, his breath catches in his throat. 

The last time they had spoken, just the two of them, it had ended in a fight. But Katara doesn’t seem angry with him now. Zuko considers telling her about his vision, but he worries that it might remind her of her own loss. He wishes he could tell her how sorry he is about her grandmother, but in doing so, he would have to admit that he overheard her conversation with Sokka.

“Do you think that’s why Suki and Azula are so close?” he asks, eventually. “Because they both had such difficult childhoods?”

Katara tilts her head, considering for a moment. She is not surprised by Zuko’s sudden question. They have known each other long enough that they often begin speaking this way—as if they are already in the middle of a conversation. 

“It might be one reason, Zuko, but I’m not so sure you can explain these things so easily. I think sometimes two people just…understand each other, you know?” She shrugs, turning to look at him once more. Their eyes meet, and Zuko wishes he could tell her that he _does_ know—better than she realizes. 

Distracted, his foot catches on a vine and he stumbles forward. Katara moves to help him, but he manages to steady himself on a branch. When he straightens up, he finds that her face is inches away from his, and the arm that reached out for the branch is extended over her shoulder. She is standing so close, he can feel her breath on his skin. He tries not to notice the way the wet dress clings to her body. _For Agni’s sake, why didn’t she waterbend it dry?_

For a moment, he lets himself imagine what it would be like to reach out and touch her. The scene under the pine tree has evolved over the years, but it still plays in his mind every day—sometimes in his office, sometimes during meditation, and always in the moments between sleep and wakefulness when he lays alone in his room. He feels that same way now—as if he has stepped halfway into a dream. _Was a banyongrove so different from a pine tree, after all?_

He leans in, yielding to the rising tide of his emotions. Their lips are only a hair’s breadth apart, now. They sway back and forth, like turtleducks bobbing on the water, but they never quite make up the distance between them. Eventually, Katara pulls away. Zuko is alarmed to find that the anger has come back into her eyes. 

“Am I an idiot?” she snaps. “Am I a complete fool?” 

“I don’t know what you—” 

“Because I feel like one, Zuko! I really do! When we’re together, sometimes it seems like…But I know that can’t be right! Because after you leave, I remember that you still want to marry Mai.” Her chin quivers and tears well up in her eyes. She smiles through them. “And I’m happy for you, Zuko, I really am. I just wonder how I misinterpreted things so badly, that’s all.”

Zuko’s heart falls into the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know how to even begin explaining his obligation to Mai. She was in the Earth Kingdom protecting him when she fell into the Spirit World, and she had come out so broken. How could he abandon her after that? The truth was he couldn’t. Mai’s health and happiness were his responsibility, now. What did it matter how he felt? This wasn’t a question of his happiness—but his honor. 

The longer he stands there silently, the more miserable Katara looks. He watches a tear roll down her cheek in a thin line. “Forget it,” she says hoarsely. “I get it; it was my mistake. Let’s just go back to bed.”

And suddenly, Zuko can’t take it anymore. As she turns to leave, he grabs her arm and pulls her back to him. One hand reaches around, bunching the fabric of her tunic, the other winds through her hair. He bends to kiss her, but she is no longer there.

 _Another vision,_ he realizes, bitterly.

* * *

When Zuko finally does return to camp, Katara is fast asleep on her mat. Toph, however, is sitting up waiting for him at the edge of the clearing, letting her feet dangle in the dark water.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?”

“No,” He says, lowering himself down next to her. “I’ve got too much on my mind, I guess.” 

She shakes her head at him. “You know, you don’t always have to be so self-sacrificing. Your happiness has gotta be worth something, too.” 

Zuko frowns, wondering how she knows exactly what’s running through his head. “You don’t get it,” he says. “I’m the Fire Lord. I have promises I need to keep.”

“Okay, Sparky, you can hide behind your crown all you want. But you know what your uncle would say...”

“No, I don’t!” Zuko’s voice rises, and Toph puts a hand up to quiet him.

“Jeez, keep it down. They’re all asleep.”

“Sorry,” he says in a whisper. “But I really _don’t_ know what my uncle would say! I don’t know because the Avatar went crazy and trapped him in the Spirit World.” Zuko breathes heavily. It’s been a long time since he’s lost his temper, and now it’s happened twice in as many days. Toph doesn’t seem to mind. She just sits there quietly and waits for him to calm down.

“We’re gonna get him back,” she says after a minute. “And when we do, you know he’s going to have something to say about this whole mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I hope he does.”

Toph tries to give Zuko an affectionate punch him in the arm, but she misses. With a _crack,_ her fist connects with his jaw. 

“By Agni’s seven sons, Toph!” he says, rubbing the spot where she hit him.

“Sorry!” She grins. “But I am blind, you know.”

“Well, you still punch like an angry goat-gorilla.”

“Aww… You see, this is why I love you, Zuko. You always say the nicest things...”

“Yeah, well, if I told you I love you too, would you promise not to hit me again?”

“Sure thing,” she laughs, and punches him even harder on the shoulder. Somehow, he doesn’t mind. They stay awake talking until almost dawn, when sleep finally claims them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be the last update for a few months while I go back and edit. Happy Valentine's Day!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender is owned by Nickelodeon Animation Studio and the amazing team that brought it to us. I have nothing but love for their creativity and talent.
> 
>  **I'm not a writer, and I don't have editors** so please, please consider this a beta! Tell me in the comments where things need to change! Tell me what I need to tweak, what isn't clear, what's awkward, and what's just plain boring. Your feedback is appreciated and will help me make this story better!


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